


Superman Never Made Any Money

by RipVanWinkle



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Animalistic Behavior, BAMF Keith (Voltron), BAMF Lance (Voltron), Drug Abuse, Drugs, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gratuitous Violence, Insecure Keith (Voltron), Insecure Lance (Voltron), Love Confessions, M/M, Murder, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Keith (Voltron), Primal AU, Protective Keith (Voltron), Protective Lance (Voltron), Racing against the clock, Rough Sex, Safe Sane and Consensual, Space Dad Shiro (Voltron), Stranded, Trapped, unimportant character death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-04-17 08:10:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 43,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14184633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RipVanWinkle/pseuds/RipVanWinkle
Summary: While investigating claims of quintessence being harbored by an intergalactic drug ring on the planetVawharth, Lance and Keith are separated from the rest of the team and unceremoniously trapped within the confines of a dangerous city.It would be less than an ideal situation but still a bearable one, had Keith not decided to take a swim in a batch of raw quintessence. It all goes to shit from there.Lance has a few days, if he’s lucky, until they lose their Red Paladin to his wayward Galra instincts forever. How is he to control the volatile nature of a big, territorial space cat, and to save his best friend/secret crush from his own DNA’s betrayal, while also under fire from hidden enemies?





	1. Animal.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I can still hear you making that sound_  
>  _Taking me down rolling on the ground_  
>  -Maroon 5, _Animals_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **CHAPTER TAGS:** Explicit violence, gay stuff (but that's what you're here for, bitch), explicit language, A N G S T

“Lance, if you don’t stop drooling I swear I’ll kick your gay ass six ways from Sunday.”

Wiping in a quick, embarrassed motion at his chin, Lance sneaks a glare Pidge’s way, “I was _not_ drooling.” He mutters under his breath, moving close so that only she would hear. Not that she was particularly quiet but _someone_ has to do damage control.

Hunk leans into his proximity, his tone piteous, “You’re not slick, buddy.”

Lance crosses his arm at his chest and huffs indignantly, “Excuse you, but I’m _trying_ to pay attention. Shut up!”

Both of his friends roll their eyes in fond exasperation but quiet down, neither interested in receiving a reprimand from Shiro or Allura.

If he’s being honest, and Lance prides himself on his golden honesty, he couldn’t tell you a single thing his leaders have said in the meeting so far. Oh sure, judge him all you want, but _listen._ He can’t _control_ the way Keith’s hair falls cutely over his brow, or how his nose scrunches the tiniest bit (like a damn _bunny,_ Lance can’t handle this) when he’s concentrating. Lance is just a man, okay? A really weak, really smitten man who loves to stare at his crush from afar and do absolutely nothing to change the sad pining he has been torturing himself with.

It isn’t like Lance doesn’t care about what Allura has to say...but Keith just looks so good post-workout! There must be something awfully wrong with Lance to find drying sweat and messy hair attractive. Not to mention the boy smells like total B.O. and propellant. So not a thirst-worthy combo. Nevertheless, here Lance stands, mind completely vacant of the _very_ important information the Princess offers and up to his nips in gross affection.

Lance sneaks a quick peek back to the Red Paladin, trying to be as covert as possible. He almost giggles (you hear that?! _Giggles!_ Like some kind of fuckin’ schoolgirl!) when the other carelessly pushes his oily bangs back, a futile attempt to corale them. That is so adorable. Why doesn’t he just pin them back if they bother him so much? Or cut his hair like a normal person? Now _that’s_ a thought. Keith with his hair pinned back...Keith with an undercut a bit like Shiro’s...lovely, absolutely fantastic, splendid idea, Lance, really, bravo-

“-watch for them, or you _will_ die.” Allura’s warning drags Lance’s wayward thoughts back to the present, and he blinks in blank confusion.

Shiro glances his way and he swiftly schools his expression into a more understanding one. The man’s brows furrow. _Whoops, too understanding Lance, ease up, oh shit, he’s talking, fuck-_ “Lance, have you been paying attention?”

And there’s that Disappointed Dad Tone™ they all know and love! ...Syke! Now everybody is staring his way, looking a wide range from pity to irritation. Lance grins, cheeks heating ever slightly under his leader’s scrutiny, “Of course I have! I love to hear the Princess talk!”

Pidge groans to hide her laughter, hiding her quivering mouth behind her fist. Lance elbows her, not taking his eyes off of Shiro’s. Hunk sighs heavily, probably asking God why he got stuck with such a doofus for a best friend.

“Uh-huh.” Shiro says, “Then you wouldn’t mind sharing the name of the planet we’re about to land on?”

 _I hope Keith-watching was fucking worth it, dumbass!_ Lance bites his bottom lip, gaze flitting shamefully to the side. “It’s...it’s, uh,”

“Yeah?”

A movement catches his focus and he makes eye contact with Keith. Even though he looks a mix of annoyed amusement, he mouths something silently at Lance. Wha-oh! He’s trying to help him, _awh,_ be careful, buddy! Lance just might fall in love! Keith looks like he’s saying a ‘v’ noise, so Lance follows suit, “Uh, V-”

Keith widens his mouth.

“-aw-”

Keith does something weird with his lips and teeth that Lance can’t discern. He cocks his head and parts his mouth in bemusement. Keith shapes it again. Lance understands nothing.

Ever the short-tempered beast, Keith snaps in frustration, “ _Vawharth_ , it’s _Vawharth,_ you idiot!”

Shiro glares at him with his fists on his hips, “Keith! Don’t help him!” He chastises angrily, and Lance breathes a quick, surely short lived sigh of relief that Shiro is no longer reprimanding him.

“I’m sorry, he just looked so _stupid-_ ”

Lance squawks, “Hey! I was getting it!”

“Was not.” Keith eggs him on with a scoff.

“Was too!”

“Was not.”

“Was too!”

“Was-”

“ _Paladins!_ ” Allura barks and instantly the room falls silent under her vicious tone. Uh-oh, spaghettios, they’ve woken the _beast_ , poked the sleeping _tiger_. Her sapphire eyes have darkened into a icy navy, her face all sharp angles and fury and only made complete by the cleanliness of her hair bun. She’s every bit the monarch she claims to be and here they’ve gone and bothered her. Thanks for reading folks, it was great knowing you! Lance is off to die, now!

“You _will_ bite your tongues unless you desire a week on laundry duty, on top of extra drills! And I promise you, _I_ will be leading them.” She threatens coolly.

That’s all it takes to garner Lance’s undivided attention. No way in hell is he doing _extra_ training on top of the spartan regimen Allura already has them on. He likes his muscles still attached to his bones, thank you very much. Quirking a sheepish, apologetic smile, Lance drops his head submissively, “I’m sorry, Princess.”

Keith is silent, only stares at his boots with pink-tipped ears from the embarrassment of being called out in front of the team. Lance clears his throat and Keith startles into action, “Oh-uh, yeah, me too.”

Allura stares them down a moment longer, causing quite the sweat to break out across Lance’s forehead, before tsking, “Quite! Now, if you two are done, may I continue briefing you on the mission?”

“Yes, Princess.” The two answer in unison. Seems the only way to get them to work together is to threaten them. Lance is positive Allura will take that into consideration.

She nods and turns her eyes back to the holoscreen. Lance feels like he can breathe again and shoots a dirty look towards Keith. The other scowls at him in return but doesn’t do much else.

“As I was saying,” Allura carries on, “we have received a cry for help from the government of a small planet called Vawharth, in the Hindexeyous-98p galaxy. The planet has an open door policy for trade and immigration, a little _too_ open. Their planet has become the center of operations for an intergalactic drug ring. The government has always been weak and the gang in charge has replaced many in power with their own goons.” The planet on screen appears, surprisingly, a lot like earth except greener. There’s a random huge blot of blue, an immense body of water, along the planet’s equator. It wraps around in a ring of sorts, a perfect division between the north and south hemispheres.

“As the planet is very open, there is great diversity in regards to species. However, you will find there to be a majority, dominating species.” She swipes the planet away and replaces it with three lifeforms. No scores for Lance on this trip, by how the locals look, got it! “They are called Jaqat. From our understanding, the gang in charge has a strict ‘no outsiders’ policy, and only Jaqat are allowed to join. While they do not have genders, and are asexual, there are three distinct classes.” She taps on the first one, the largest of the group, “This is what they call a Hunter Type. What I am showing you is what, on average, they look like. They can range anywhere from human size to- what did you call it, Shiro? A bus?”

Shiro’s face goes pale at the thought of such a huge alien, and at the prospect of having to fight one, and he nods, “Yes, Princess.”

Lance blanches, “A _bus!_ Jesus! How big must their buildings be? Their underwear must be friggin’ huge!”

Everyone ignores his outburst as Allura continues to describe the species.

“You must exhibit extreme caution if you meet a hostile Hunter. They are the most dangerous of the three on land. They have multiple sets of teeth,” The image cuts to the alien opening its massive lizard jaws, and sure enough, it has four rows of shark-like fangs protruding from its mouth. Lance feels Hunk shudder beside him so he pats his shoulder comfortingly. “And are extremely fast and strong. They are also exceptionally good at climbing, an evolutionary trait from living on a planet comprised of mostly rainforests.”

Pidge raises her hand, “So, what you’re telling me is, is that these Hunters are basically invincible?”

Allura disagrees, “Not at all. Their stomachs are extremely sensitive and the inside of their thighs especially vulnerable. If you were to land a blow to either of these vital points, they would die in seconds.”

 _Die in seconds._ Is this what they do now? Talk about death like it didn’t mean anything? Lance hopes it doesn’t come to it. He swallows whatever disgust Allura’s casual attitude gives him and soldiers on. The creature is humanoid in shape, meaning it has two legs, two arms, and head right where it ought to be, but all similarities end there. Its scaled skin reminds him of an alligator, and the large pointed ears on the side of its head look relatively bat-like. It must have amazing senses, then.

“It can see in the dark, as well, so be careful. The nights on Vawharth last around fifteen vargas, and the days around five. They actually have a harder time seeing in natural light, so you’ll have an advantage for a short period of time. Hopefully we will not be there too long to have to rely upon it.” _Jesus._ “It is not to say you will not be able to see at all during nightfall. The cities are well illuminated for the different species that live in them. It’s practically daytime within their confines.” The unspoken warning of the territories outside of cities is heard loud and clear.

“Moving on.” The Princess enlarges the next type and Lance’s mind is immediately brought to the Tall Man stories he used to scare the bejeebus outta his siblings. This one is tall, like insanely so, with great long limbs with too many joints for his liking. It is far thinner and not nearly as muscular as the Hunters, probably due to a lack of proper cardio, Lance thinks. Its feet are long and taloned to snag prey off the ground while at high speeds. Its wings are featherless, just veiny skin stretched taut across thin wiry bones. Its face is the same as the Hunter type, with big green eyes on either side of its head. “This is the Flight type. As you can well see, it can fly. It can reach great speed but not nearly enough to keep up with the Lions. They tend to avoid prey that are bigger and louder than them.”

Shiro speaks up, “What are the weak spots we should know about on them?”

“If you damage their wings they will lose all will to fight. It’s quite the phenomenon, really. They won’t even fight back if you attempted to kill them.” Allura informs the team, her face perplexed.

Lance can hardly believe that. Just because your wing got messed up you just let someone kill you? He couldn’t imagine.

“And the last of them are ones you should have nearly no trouble with as they hardly come to the surface.”

Lance perks at that. Does she mean sea dwellers?

Allura makes the final type appear on screen and Lance jolts in surprise. This one looks a lot like the Hunter type, a bit leaner maybe, but with entirely webbed hands and feet. Large gills cut a path from the back of its jaw to its collar bones, twitching in simulated breathing. The most shocking aspect is that it has no eyes. Its head is completely smooth save for a mouth also, like its counterparts, filled to the brim with terrifying teeth.

“They live entirely underwater. They can walk on land for a time but are extremely slow, and can only breathe air for maybe a varga before having to return to a water source. I would not recommend jumping in the water with them if they wish to hurt you, although I highly doubt you will come across one of them.”

 _Don’t count your cows early, Princess._ Lance wants to say but contains himself.

Keith takes a step forward, moving closer to Lance (not that Lance is tracking how close they are, or anything), and asks, “Are the Galra involved?”

Allura shakes her head, expression showing her growing unease, “No, and that is what makes this next part so strange.” She cancels out of the Jaqat types, draws up a picture of a small glass vial. Inside a glowing, violet liquid resides, sloshing around slow and thick like honey. “The drugs they are infecting the galaxy with? The Vawharth government claims it to be made from extracted pure quintessence.”

The team starts, a ripple of unrest making their limbs jittery. Lance clenches his fists by his sides and questions, “How are they extracting it? Are they mining it?” Please, please, _please_ be mining and not, like, ripping it from living beings or something.

“That is what we need to find out. There are three main centers of distribution the government has narrowed down. We are to infiltrate these cities, find out which one is the main producer, and shut it and the gang down for good.” Allura commands, determination taking the place of concern.

Hunk interjects, placing a hand on Lance’s shoulder as he leans forward, “What does this drug do, exactly? And does it only come in liquid form?”

“As far as we know, it is only a liquid. The user has to inject it directly into their bloodstream for the effects to work. The government has informed Coran and I that the drug mainly acts as an aggressor of sorts. It increases the user’s strength ten fold and throws them into a state of heightened emotions. Even the smallest thing can set them off. Long term determinants include anything from cardiac arrest to the body simply shutting down, unable to keep up with the energy it has to expend to work off the drug. It is extremely addictive to most species.”

“Like a steroid!” Exclaims Hunk.

“I’m not positive what that is, but sure.”

“Princess,” Pidge pipes up, her brows furrowed in contemplation, “if we attack one at a time, wouldn’t that just give the gang time to relocate, or prepare a trap?”

Allura nods, “Exactly right, Pidge. That is why we are going to split up into teams.”

Okay, cool, totally. Split up into teams to take on a whole city, that’s cool…. Lance frowns. He has a real bad feeling, a dark whispering in his gut making his skin shiver, but he ignores it. These people need help, and they _have_ to find out where this surplus of quintessence is coming from. Definitely before the Galra do, that’s for sure. The gang wouldn’t stand a chance at keeping that stuff away from their grubby little paws.

“Shiro, how do you wish to split us? I am coming along to even out the teams.” Allura directs her inquiry their leader’s way.

Shiro’s gaze drags over his team and he answers, “Hunk, you’re with Pidge.”

The two high five, faces bright with elated grins at being paired together. Lance’s lips pull into a worried frown. Shiro isn’t going to do what he thinks he is, is he?! No, no, no, Keith _hates_ working with Lance. To the point of jeopardizing the whole mission! They’ve become closer over the months of being confined together, sure. You kinda _have_ to with only seven people on the ship, and all. They can even call each other friends and hang out from time to time, but that doesn’t lessen the sheer irritation Keith exhibits whenever he’s stuck on _actual_ missions with Lance.

“Lance, you and Keith make a great team. I have no doubts you’ll work well together.” _Don’t fuck this up or I’ll kill you both._ He doesn’t have to say it for them to catch his drift.

And yeah, they do work well together...when Lance isn’t hiding his huge crush with childish insults and Keith isn’t allowing himself to get riled up by them. He glances over at his new partner, dreading the disgusted expression that Keith must be pulling….

Shockingly, Keith is only staring heatedly at Shiro, as if trying to melt that metal arm of his with his glare alone. If anything, he appears almost _worried,_ and definitely pissed at their leader for pairing them together. Lance’s heart twitches painfully in his chest so he bites out a joke to evade his own impending sadness, “Might be an issue, leader dude, I can’t snipe with Keith’s luscious locks blowing in the wind and blocking my view.”

Keith scowls at him and looks ready to start another argument, but one withering frown from Allura shuts him up real quick. Would you look at that? Even Keith’s got a brain!

Shiro crosses his arms, “I doubt Keith’s hair will be detrimental to the mission. Allura and I will take the remaining city.”

Allura hums, pleased with the pickings. Lance narrows his eyes at her. She’s just happy because she gets to be with the ever capable, _handsome_ Takashi Shirogane. Fuck, Lance would give his left nut to be as buff and sexy as that guy. Maybe then Keith would spare him more than a rude remark and a passing glance.

The Princess pulls up the planet view again, on which three zones have been highlighted in bright yellow. She points to one at the north, “Here we have Oxxuk, the north most city. There’s a district in particular the government’s intelligence forces have been scoping out. Hunk, Pidge, you’ll go there.”

“You got it!” comes the same time as “sure thing!”

“Shiro and I will investigate the claims of activity in this city here,” She moves her finger to one beside the equator’s sea, in the southwestern hemisphere, “Ogruk. And finally Keith and Lance-”

“- _Klance-_ ” Pidge snickers softly to Hunk, who chuckles back. Lance discreetly kicks Pidge’s shin and she hisses threateningly.

“-you two will head to Eruk.” The final location is smack dab in the center of what seems to be a huge forest. It’s kind of hard to tell with how much green there is. “I feel obligated to tell you two that it _is_ the most dangerous of the three cities, purely because of the slums.”

Heaving a heavy groan, Lance tosses his head back dramatically and flops his arms about, almost hitting Pidge in the process. She grumbles and moves closer to Keith. “Oh sure, send _dream team_ to the most dangerous one-”

“Lance.” Deadpans Keith.

“Yes, my brother from another mullet?”

“Shut up. We can handle it.”

Lance pops his hip out and puts his hands on his hips, “Yeah, _I_ can, I don’t know about you, buddy.”

Sensing another argument on the way, Allura interjects before Keith has the chance to snap a snarky retort that would inevitably set Lance off again, “I have just sent 3D maps to your suits and lions. The official I have been in contact with has revealed the exact locations of the dispensaries. You will head immediately there, _no_ detours. This is a stealth mission. If you are the team to find the source, do _not_ engage.” She glares directly at Keith, making Lance chuckle into his palm and Keith give an offended huff.

“Inform the rest of us and wait until we all group. Then we will alert the official, gain the support of their militia reinforcements, and combine our strengths to destroy the heart of all this mess. If we are too early, too late, or the gang is somehow aware of our presence there, they could move their means of production before we even get there.” Allura finishes, her grave expression causing even Lance to clue in to just how important this is. She nods at Shiro, handing the reins over to him.

“Suit up, everyone!” Shiro orders, “We leave in ten.”

 

* * *

 

 

It is the middle of night when Keith walks Red in between two spiraling trees on the outskirts of Eruk. As he departs from his lion’s open metal jaws, he watches Blue settle a few meters away under the comforting thickness of jungle canopy. It would be difficult to spot the ships from above, even with their impressive color schemes, in such dense forestry. They were not too far away from the city, only a fifteen minute walk or so, but they would have landed closer had Allura not warned them to stay entirely inconspicuous.

_“Vawharth is not only a trading destination but also a tourist spot. Some alien is bound to recognize the lions of Voltron.”_

As such the two boys did not even bother putting on the bulkier pieces of their paladin armor, only keeping their right arm braces to pull up the 3D map and maintain communications. The symbol on the chest plates would be a dead giveaway to anyone conscious of the universe’s events. Instead they decided to wear only their skin tight flight suits and casual clothes, trying to look the part of visitors on vacation. Keith’s bayard is strapped to his side and his knife is a familiar weight on the small of his back. He looks over at Lance.

The other boy, made visible by the brightness of his ship’s eyes, is waving a dramatic goodbye to Blue, cooing sweet nothings as if she could answer, “Until I see you again, my love! Stay gorgeous!”

Keith casts a guilty glance towards his own lion. Should he be that expressive? A lingering weight shifts in his mind, a stern _no_ from the sentient spaceship. A small smile tugs at his lips. Of course, Red’s not like Blue, she’d rather him _not_ make a fool out of himself like Lance often does. The two lions power down to sleep mode and the dark of the evening sinks heavy like a brick in water.

He gazes to the city. It glows like a mini supernova, fighting the natural order of night and day with its marvel. Meters from their treeline is a stone road leading directly to what he imagines is a cluster of buildings, empty and dark unlike its destination. With the lions slumbering, the lights in the distance are the only source of illumination. Out and away from the city is dark and quiet, the thick jungle around them oddly silent. He shrugs it off. This place isn’t Earth so he shouldn’t compare the two.

“Stop flirting with your lion and let’s go.” Keith calls over to his partner while he flicks on the built in flashlight in his arm piece, turning to march in the direction of the dazzling lights of Eruk. He hears an irritated grumble and the quickfall of Lance’s hurried steps to catch up. He eyes Lance, “You have your bayard?”

Lance pats his side where his unactivated weapon hangs on his belt, “Duh, I’m not stupid. And I’m not _flirting_ with Blue, I’m just treating her like the lovely lady she is! You should try it with Red sometime. Maybe you’ll both loosen up.” He switches his light on as well.

Keith scowls but doesn’t say much else on the matter; a solid step in the right direction, he thinks. Just don’t react to Lance’s teasing and eventually he’ll give up, like a playground bully. His tactic doesn’t bear much fruit, however, as Lance continues to chatter about everything they see (including Keith’s hair and “dumb emo face”).

“I wonder why they’re aren’t any cars….” Lance ponders out loud.

“Probably because they’re aliens and don’t _have_ cars?” Comes the annoyed response from an equally annoyed paladin.

Snorting, Lance chastises him, “What? You seriously think humans are the only ones to come up with gas powered _automobiles?_ PUH-lease. I’m sure they have some form of cars.”

“Sure,” Sighs Keith, “probably. Maybe they have curfew or something. Or maybe ‘cars’ or whatever they use are too expensive. We don’t exactly know the culture of this place.”

Lance nods, “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Ye-wait-what?” Keith stutters, mouth flapping open. Did Lance just agree with him _and_ say he’s right? It’s hard to tell in the awkward light of their arm armor, but Keith swears he sees a dusting of red across Lance’s nose and cheeks. His indignant expression, it’s... _cute._

Picking up his pace and using his incredibly (and yes, Keith’s been looking) long legs to his advantage, Lance hides his face from view, “You heard me! Mullet head!”

Keith stares at the back of the other boy’s head, startled by his own thoughts. Cute? Lance? Yeah, Keith knows he’s at least attracted to men but it’s usually kind of hard to find grown _men_ cute. And looking at Lance’s broad shoulders and strong jaw, covered in a light stubble he must have forgotten to shave, there’s no way he couldn’t be considered a man. But here Keith is, glaring at Lance’s swaying ass as if it told him it killed his dad, and dwelling on the slight tremor in his voice. Making up fanciful fantasies of double meanings in their conversations, in their lengthy glances, is another day in the life of Keith Kogane.

After many moments in surprising silence, the two hit a line of overly decorated buildings. Under the light of the neon signs they shut off their flashlights. Lance stops outside a particularly flashy attraction, cocking his head as he attempts to read whatever the name is. Suddenly he grins deviously at Keith, “Wow! A casino right when you enter! C’mon, Keith, let’s play crabs.”

“Knowing you, you’d lose everything the first try. Let’s keep moving.” Keith pushes back his sleeve to pull up the holographic map in his armor. There is a tracker on both him and Lance, their positions being broadcasted back to the castle’s computers. He is represented by a vibrant red diamond, while Lance’s tracker is a deep blue. His eyes follow the path they are to travel, nose scrunching at the distance they have to cover, “We still have a ways to go and no time to mess around.”

Lance frowns at the casino, a longing look in his eye and foot tapping to the music playing inside, “Yeah, yeah, okay. I’m coming back, though!” He begins to fiddle with his device, “I’m going to tell Allura that we made it.”

Keith nods and leaves him to it, focusing back onto the map. They are to meet a spy sent from the official Allura has contacted (they learned the official’s name is Grand Inquisitor Guw, a very high ranking officer of their police forces, only second to the Kaiser Tymna, their sort of president) who will help them break into the plant undetected. The spy is waiting for them in a motel beside it, in room 2B. He cancels the hologram and looks up as Lance approaches.

“Alright, Shiro and her are in the loop.” He informs the other.

As they continue further into the city, the structures grow closer and closer until finally they are practically stacked on top of one another, and the streets are filled with aliens of every origin. What used to be a quiet atmosphere turns a smoky jolly, a plethora of new languages mingling in the chilly night air. It is easy for them to slip and dip through the crowd, hiding themselves among the drunks and bar hoppers. Lance smirks at Keith, “Must be Saturday night, huh? Man, I wanna party!”

Keith rolls his eyes, “I hardly think getting drunk in public is fun.”

“You just don’t know how to live.” They stick close to each other, arms either pressed entirely together or one on the other’s heels. Lance glances down at Keith’s hand, covered by the gloves of his flight suit, and considers grabbing it. He could very simply explain that he doesn’t want to lose sight of Keith and he doubts the other would catch on. Keith can be pretty dense.

In the end, however, his nerves get the best of him and he decides against it. He would never live it down if Keith told Hunk or Pidge about it. Besides, it isn’t like Keith would actually want to hold his hand or something. He would probably get grossed out.

Lance doesn’t realize, and won’t for quite a bit (sorry for the inevitable frustration it may cause, dear reader!), that Keith wants to hold his hand just as desperately.

An alarmed shout breaks Lance out of his daydreaming and he instinctively moves closer to Keith, first thought to protect his teammate and to receive the same safety in return. Keith goes stiff, whipping his head towards the sounds of violence in the middle of a nearby throng of aliens.

Nearby, a large circle has given three creatures a wide berth, watching the scene unfold with wide, intrigued eyes. Keith and Lance push and squeeze their way to a spot from which they can see, and Lance gasps at the sight they discover.

A large green alien with humanoid features is beating mercilessly at a smaller female of the same species with his bare fists. His yellow eyes are frothy and bloodshot, utterly blank save for ravenous animalistic fury. His face holds no intelligence, no real sentience, no sign that he has felt anything but murderous anger in all his existence. The veins in his face and neck, most surprising of all, are practically _glowing_ magenta, crawling slowly up his skin like demented spiderwebs. The female under him pleads with him, begs him to stop, but her words are slurred like she is speaking through thick soup. Strange blue liquid squirts from her busted eye, _her blood_ , and splatters across the ground in an arc. The male on top screeches as another male of the same species attempts to drag him off, earning only a bloody nose and bruised arms for his efforts.

“Please! Zech! This isn’t _you!_ ” Thanks to their lions’ mental connections, most alien languages can be translated in speech, so Lance and Keith understand every word they say. The male cries out, “Why are you hurting her?!”

The female sobs and screams only to be brutally choked, her one good eye bulging out of its socket and nails biting into the attacker’s lime flesh. He is bleeding heavily from her scratches, bubbling green mixed with some fluorescent purple running in strips down his arm, but he doesn’t even react.

Lance can’t help his shout, “What is _wrong_ with him?!”

“It’s the drugs!” A female alien beside him wails in dismay, “They make everyone crazy!”

Keith and Lance share a similar panicked look. No wonder the other guy can’t get this ‘Zech’ off of her, he must be insanely strong. Keith reaches for his bayard but halts when Lance grabs at him, “No, don’t, Allura told us to blend in-”

Staring incredulously at Lance, Keith hisses, “Lance, we have to-”

“No, Keith, _look!_ ” Lance points and Keith obeys, looking in the direction he gestures to.

Two large Jaqat, Hunter types judging by their huge shoulders and muzzles of sharp teeth, dressed in matching tight blue and black uniforms, shove shamelessly through the crowd. One holds a baton of sorts that startles Lance when it crackles with electricity, and the other a hefty pair of magnetized shackles. Without circumstance or warning, they leap at the raging alien. The first Jaqat tears him off like he weighed less than paper, slamming him down into the earth by the nape. When the alien is dazed by the sudden move, the Jaqat hits him several times with the baton, each blow accompanied by the sure sound of sizzling skin.

The alien roars in more acrimony than pain, swiping at the Jaqat in a backhand slapping motion. The Jaqat dodges, taking full advantage of the creature’s stunted reflexes due to the shocks to bash the butt of the baton into the bridge of his nose.

A movement catches Keith’s eye. He turns to see the second Jaqat, the one with the cuffs, slinking slowly towards the alien’s back. When its partner breaks the aggressor’s nose, the Jaqat darts forward, using the distraction to wrench the drugged alien’s arms back and into the cuffs.

The Jaqat with the baton backs off but keeps his weapon at the ready, gaze steady on the alien. The other shoves him face first into the street, ignoring how he struggled to break free from his confines. It looks to its partner, “Call it in.” Its voice is impossibly deep, but it fits its appearance perfectly.

The other two aliens involved in the attack have been moved away to a safer position by onlookers, the female already receiving first aid treatment for her broken jaw and socket. Lance feels a tug on his fingers and he shakily turns to look at Keith. His friend’s face is hard set in forced apathy, fiery violet irises holding only determination to finish their mission.

“Come on, Lance. The contact is waiting for us. They’ve got this covered.” Keith murmurs to him, moving closer so they wouldn’t be overheard.

Lance suppresses a shiver when Keith’s damp breath breezes along his ear, resisting the urge to grab at his arm to steady himself. He swallows heavily, gaze flitting back to the dark navy running in a stream down the female’s swollen features. Biting his lip, he nods in a jerking motion, “Yeah-uh, let’s go. She’ll be okay.”

“Yeah.”

He allows Keith to pull him from the crowd by the hand. He takes him in heavy silence a few blocks away, where he finally pulls them to a stop in an empty cutoff between two buildings. Keith stares quizzically at him and asks bluntly, “Was that your first time ever seeing a junkie rage?”

Lance blinks at the term and nods his head, “Uh, yeah, the only drug I ever had any contact with was weed, and weed doesn’t...it doesn’t make people _psycho_ like that….” He frowns at Keith, “What, have you?”

Nodding casually, Keith answers, “Yeah.”

“What?! When?!” Demands Lance, “Don’t tell me you did meth or something-”

Keith cuts him off, _rude,_ “No, Lance, I’ve never done _any_ drugs, actually. But that didn’t stop me from being around them. I hung out in bad places when I got kicked from the Garrison. Saw a few guys attack each other hopped up on meth and bath salts. It wasn’t pretty, but it was always over quick. Either someone died or they were pulled off each other.”

“Jesus, Keith.” Breathes Lance with a concerned look, “You never got caught up in that, did you?”

When Keith’s face darkens something in Lance’s chest twinges with discomfort. The other boy shrugs, “Yeah, just one time. I was hanging out with some older people who bought me alcohol and cigarettes-”

“You smoke?”

“ _Smoked._ Past tense. I only stress smoke now.” He sounds defensive about it, like it’s something he should be overly ashamed of.

Lance doesn’t think he should be so uppity about it so he waves it off, “Hmph. Still bad. Continue?”

“I don’t know, you going to keep interrupting me?”

“I’m sorry.” Lance squeezes Keith’s hand, surprising the other. Lance ignores how Keith’s eyes jump nervously down to their contact, how they rest there for a long moment, “Please continue? We should probably walk and talk, though.”

“Ye-yeah….” Keith murmurs before turning on his heel and tugging Lance along. He drops his hand after a few steps, however, causing absurd disappointment to flower in Lance’s chest. “Anyways, I was hanging out with bad types of people at a bar one night in Phoenix, getting drunk and mainly keeping to myself. Eventually I got bored and thought that going out on the dancefloor to find someone as bored as me was a good idea.”

Lance tags along at Keith’s side, sticking close enough to pick up his low tone. Keith has the map pulled up again, alternating between tracking their movements and watching where they were walking. After another turn the crowd thins out considerably. The road before must have been the main street where all the attractions were. From the look of a map they’re in a residential area now.

“Long story short, I was dancing with some guy and things were getting kinda heated. He suddenly started asking me if I had any drugs on me. I should have noticed his track marks and how he kept shaking sooner, they were dead giveaways. I thought the tremors were just him being nervous.” Keith elaborates, “I offered him some left over buds and he just, I don’t know, flipped shit. He tried to kick my ass and I had to knock him out just to get him to stay down.”

Lance keeps his head on a swivel, not making it too obvious he is checking for any tails. He whispers, “Did the police get him?”

“I wasn’t going to call the police, Lance. A runaway, drinking underage, in possession of marijuana?”

“Oh, right. Well, I’m glad you kicked that asshole’s butt.”

Chuckling softly to himself, Keith nods, “Yeah, me too. He busted my lip wide open, though.” He turns his head and taps on his upper lip. There’s a little white scar there, hardly noticeable unless you’ve been staring real hard.

“So _that’s_ where that came from!” Lance exclaims thoughtlessly, eyes wide. When he realizes he basically just admitted to looking at Keith just a bit too much for there to be any heterosexual explanation, Lance’s face explodes with red. He tries to do damage control, “Uh, I mean, c-cool scar, I’ve never noticed it before.”

Oh sweet baby Jesus. Keith’s _smirking._ It’s a fine slope, like a carved line in marble, pushing into dimples that just light up Lance’s world. His violet eyes glint teasingly in the light of nearby lamp posts, oddly murky with some unnameable emotion as they land on Lance’s flaming face. Keith chuckles again, deeper this time at Lance’s expense, “You’ve been looking, huh?”

“PSH!” Lance hisses, stomping a few steps ahead of Keith to avoid his uncontrollable blush giving anymore of his true feelings away, “As if! At _you?_ I don’t think so.”

“Alright, Lance, alright.” Keith concedes, surprisingly easy. When Lance glances back at him he finds that his smirk has grown into a goofy sort of grin, something so _different_ from Keith’s usual resting bitch face that his heart begins to thump wildly against his ribs. Stop it, Keith! Your boy’s gonna die!

Swallowing in hopes that his dry mouth with wetten, Lance quickly looks away again, “How close are we?”

“We’re getting there.”

Lance can still hear that damn smile in his voice.

  
  


 

 

The motel, funnily enough, is structured a lot like the rundown, squat ones Keith used to sleep in when he first got kicked from the Garrison. Its walls are an ugly tan color and the roof is rounded like the other buildings on this planet. The two sneak, quiet as the dead, past the rooms, counting them until they find their destination, 2B. The door is as inconspicuous as the others, just as rusted and the same ugly shade of green. The ‘B’ is even loose, hanging onto the door by one weakening bolt.

Keith moves past Lance, one hand wrapped around the handle of his bayard and the other poised to knock. Lance takes position behind him, ready at any moment to whip out his blaster to defend his partner. They share a quick nervous look before Keith steels his resolve and knocks three times, in quick succession, on the wood.

For a moment it is quiet and Lance begins to grow ever more cautious with each passing second. Keith’s mind plays through the motions of his escape plan if things go south- throw himself over Lance to protect the boy from any immediate threat and then go with his gut from there. All his plans are usually this simple. Why bother getting intricate if something is going to disrupt the order anyways?

Finally, sounds of locks unlatching are heard through the door and it parts, revealing the beady, distrustful mucus-green eyes of what looks to be a Flight type of Jaqat. It inspects their faces and growls, deep and inhuman, “Who was the original Green Paladin?”

Keith blinks. He wasn’t expecting a question, _no one_ told him there would be questions-

“Trigel.” Speaks Lance, a friendly smile on his face. Of course he can look calm in a situation like this. “Her name was Trigel, from the Dalterion Belt.”

The Flight type nods and swings the door wide, walking away from the door and towards the window in the far side of the room. Now without the door in the way they can see the creature perfectly. Allura’s hologram is great and all, but it really failed to capture the sheer impressive _height_ of it. It has to be the size of both Lance and Keith stacked on top of each other, with arms that span all the way down to its knoble knees. Large wings - no, really, they’re fucking _massive_ \- tuck tightly to its back, as motionless as stone. The boney tips of the appendages graze against the ground with every other step the Jaqat takes.

It wears a skintight black suit, complete with gloves and a mask that has been tugged down below its chin, that covers every inch of its skin save for the wings. Huh. Interesting fashion choice, to say the least. Not that Lance can judge, he’s pretty much wearing the same thing.

Lance closes the door after him, relocking it even though being in the same room as such a frightening alien does bad things to his stomach. Keith appears composed as ever, his dark gaze tracking the Jaqat like a hawk as it turns to them.

The Jaqat nods its skeleton head, thin lips pulled into a frown, “Greetings, paladins of Voltron. I am Meager Inquisitor Gych. Time is of the essence.”

Lance takes a step forward, “I’m Lance, the Blue Paladin. This is Keith, the Red Paladin.” He juts a thumb Keith’s way, “How are we going to get into the plant?”

Gych waves for him to come forward and uses two long fingers to part the blinds on the window, “The plant is in that old warehouse across the street. At all times it looks empty but there is a shocking amount of quintessent energy radiating from inside.”

Lance and Keith join Gych at the window, peering through the opening allotted curiously. The large building on the other side of a broad, vacant street looks dead, alright. No lights, no sound, nobody in the yard or even in the windows. From their distance they can see that the windows and doors are boarded up.

“When they sent me to investigate, it took many moon cycles to gain the gang’s trust to enter. Even then, they only allowed me to patrol the upper floors for any trouble.” Gych continues, its voice an odd that begins in its chest and tumbles out in a fluctuating mess of high and low octaves. “Luckily I memorized the layout of a majority of the warehouse. However, when you descend further, you will be on your own. Past the basement, I cannot be of much assistance as far as a guide goes.”

Keith nods, “That’s good enough for us. This is just a recon mission. We’ll avoid violence at all cost.”

“If you do not, I will abandon you. My position must not be compromised.” Gych removes his fingers from the blinds and says, “Please, put these on quickly.” He gestures to the lone bed in the center of the room on which two silver cases reside. “The suits will help disguise you.”

“Suits?” Lance questions as Keith walks up to a case and pops the lid. The two look inside to see a discreet, flesh colored earbud and a folded bodysuit with a matching mask.

“Yes, paladin. The suit blends into backgrounds.” Explains Gych, “I have mine deactivated, please observe.” The two boys watch as the Jaqat tugs the mask onto its face, only going high enough to rest just below its lizard eyes. It presses a button in the wrist of the suit and, before their very eyes, camouflages almost perfectly into the floral wallpaper of the room. Its wings still show, of course, as does its eyes, but everything else is pretty much nonexistent. “Unfortunately,” Its voice is muffled by the mask, “if I were to try to wear something over my wings, they could be damaged.”

Grunting in understanding, Keith begins to strip off his shirt and pants, “These are pretty cool.”

Lance glances at Keith before swiftly looking away, shooting a flustered smile at the Jaqat who peers at them quizzically. Keith, apparently, has _no_ shame changing in front of an alien they just met. Usually Lance would complain and make a big deal out of it but since time _really is_ of the essence here he quickly follows his partner’s pursuit.

After time upon time of changing in and out of the flight suit, it causes them no pause this go around. In a minute they have both slipped on the camouflage suits and pulled the masks up to the bride of their noses. Lance looks at Keith and chuckles, “Hey, you’re not a samurai anymore.”

Keith cocks his head, big violet eyes twinkling with mirthful confusion, “Huh?”

“You’re a ninja, nin-nin.” Lance makes a series of over exaggerated hand movements, “Believe it!”

Now those pretty eyes roll and Lance’s chest glows warm when his joke earns him a soft laugh, “Shut up!”

“ _Hai_ , Hokage Kogane.”

“Oh my God, stop-”

Gych interrupts, its long forked tongue making an irritated clicking noise on the roof of its mouth, “Please, paladins, we must make haste. Be sure to put the communicator in your ear or we may lose one another.”

Lance grins sheepishly, “My bad, Gych.” He reattaches his arm plate.

“What are you doing?” Gych asks incredulously, “If you put that on it defeats the purpose of the suit.”

“Sorry, I have to stay in touch with the boss. So does Keith.”

Keith agrees with a hum, “Yup. They don’t leave us.”

Gych sighs, which sounds strange coming from such a huge and inhuman creature, before relenting, “Fine. Do not get angry when a Jaqat easily spots you. At least the suits damper your human stench.”

“Hey!” The two boys bark in unison, faces pulled into similar offended expressions.

Gych waves them off, setting its massive jaw in a stony look, “We need to go. Now.”

Lance fiddles with the bud in his ear and then nods at Keith who returns the gesture. They look to their Jaqat companion.

“We’re ready.”

 

* * *

 

 

It doesn’t take the team long to find what they are looking for.

Keith thinks it’s kind of sketchy, how quickly they discovered the large extra storage space just around half a mile below the basement. The three slip out from a large air duct, quiet as the grave when they jump down onto a platform high above the floor of the room. It’s a good of a hiding spot as any and a good vantage point for Lance if the situation called for it. His attention is not on the platform, however, but on the huge, black vat of violet quintessence down below.

It is a large, industrial sized tank, filled to the brim with the raw energy. Along the walls beside it are various tubes and smaller containers, obviously marking it as a distillery. Lower than that, easier to access from the ground, are long shelves packed with all sorts of packaging. Glass vials murky with diluted liquid quintessence and pill bottles stuffed with hardened forms of it line the edges. Even _powdered_ quintessence is packed tightly in little bricks, like fucking _cocaine_ or something.

Keith is disgusted. Leave it to the universe to have drugs in space, too. He grits his teeth and looks to his companions.

Gych has a thin pencil looking object of some sort in its hands and is pointing it at the vat. It takes Keith a moment to notice the tiny lens in the middle of it. Lance smiles underneath his mask, shooting the two a dorky thumbs up.

“Need to tell Shiro and Allura…. ” Murmurs Lance to their Jaqat guide.

The alien shakes its head sharply, “No.” It whispers, “They might intercept your signal. Not until we leave.” Lance and Keith nod in agreement. Gych pockets its tiny stick camera and turns to them, its green eyes glinting in the soft light of the quintessence, “We have what we need. This is the factory, I am sure of it. There are other rooms as large as this one, probably with more drugs there.”

Lance nods again, and goes to boost back into the vent when a shriek interrupts the action. Startled, Lance almost trips over his own feet, only saved by Glych’s amazingly fast reflexes. The Jaqat catches him with ease and lets go as the three press into the shadows of the platform. Keith’s heart races behind his ribs. Were they caught already?!

But no alarm sounds, as Glych said would happen if they were to be discovered. The three creep closer to the ledge, peering into the dimness to see what the commotion is.

A pained grunt makes Lance flinch. His eyes widen at the sight below.

A few Jaqat are dragging a smaller one into the middle of the room, right before the vat. By the looks of it, the poor alien has already been beaten pretty badly. Its left eye is swollen shut and many of its fangs are missing, bloody jungles of vein and tissue left in their wake. The bigger Jaqat jeer at it, lash out every few seconds to mess with it. The victim whimpers and the sound makes Lance’s chest tighten.

 _“Please-”_ The held Jaqat wheezes, “-my offspring-please-”

“Quiet!” A larger Jaqat snarls.

Another agonized cry echoes to their hiding spot, heavy with a frightening terror that makes Lance’s hair stand up. The Jaqat down below is kicked viciously across the face, its call for help cut short in a stomach-churning gurgle. Lance winces before glancing to his partner for some form of guidance. He watches Keith’s grip tighten on the thick handle of his bayard, and flicks his eyes upwards to his teammate’s face. Aw, shit. He’d know _that_ look anywhere.

And usually, Lance loves it. The stubbornly set jaw, the heavy dark brows that crowd low to his scorching mauve eyes, the little snarl exposing the faintest shimmer of white teeth- a trait he received from his Galra heritage, surely. In short, it’s _hot_ , but not wanted here. Because that’s Keith’s _‘I’m fed up with this bullshit’_ face, his _‘you have to the count of zero before I fuck you up’_ face.

Lance wants it to be anything but that, any other expression at all, because that’s also his _‘hey I’m about to do something real fucking stupid’_ face.

“Keith….” Lance mutters warningly, leaning towards him.

The helpless alien is on its knees now, having been forced up off the floor by its attackers. One gangster cackles with a noise like a hyena and digs its claws into its victim’s skull, dragging the head back to expose the vulnerable column of its meaty throat. Lance’s breath catches and Keith twitches violently.

The Hunter Jaqat snarls and spits, “Last chance!” From a sheath on its belt it pulls a smooth dagger, the blade rusty with a dark ooze. Lance can easily imagine what it is.

“ _Lance!_ ” Keith growls back, fiery irises hiding something frantic just beneath their surface, “We have to help it!”

“We can’t expose ourselves!” Lance, always the voice of reason in their dynamic little duo, tries to talk him down from the ledge. No, literally, the _ledge._ Keith is moving closer and closer to the edge of their hiding spot, obviously having every intention to leap down their like some stupid fucking hero or something.

The injured Jaqat stares at the weapon with fear clear in its big green eyes, neck bobbing with the motion of a terrified swallow, but its mouth remains shut. It seems to gain a resolve that strikes a chord deep within the two human boys, and hisses between clenched fangs, “For Kaiser Tymna.”

Keith glares hotly at him, “How can you say that?! It’s going to _die!_ ”

The obvious disgust in his tone hurts Lance but it pisses him off more so he snaps right back, “I know that! But we have _orders!_ If you go down there, _you’ll_ die!”

“I have to take that chance-”

“No fucking way, I won’t let you-”

The hyena Jaqat tsks loudly, its other heavy hand stroking the captive’s face with a mocking gentleness, “Hear that?! For that wh-O-re Tymna!” The insult is translated in their minds choppily, as if their Lions had a hard time finding a word in English that meant along the same lines. Lance stares back down at them, dread settling like a heavy weight in his chest.

Shrugging its massive shoulders, the Hunter Jaqat only grimaces darkly, as if disgusted by its company, “A shame. You die for nothing.”

A movement beside Lance steals his attention from the scene unfolding below and he has a split second of seeing Keith’s bayard flash across his vision before he is all alone on the ledge. He gasps and lurches forward, hand instantly activating his own weapon and body instinctively aiming without a thought other than _oh fuck fuck Keith why did you do that you fucking idiot!_

Keith lands with a heavy thud meters from the gang, rolling forward to distribute the blunt of the fall and springing back up onto his feet in one dizzying motion. Lance traces his trajectory before Keith even takes the first step, whipping his blaster’s sights to focus on the gangster holding the injured Jaqat while Keith lunges ferociously at the Hunter Jaqat.

Lance sees Gych shake its head beside him, “Your friend is foolish.” It hurries to the open air duct and in a second is gone. Abandoning them just as it promised it would do. Lance grits his teeth and turns back to the fight.

The hyena Jaqat startles, releasing its iron grip on its victim’s skull and snarling menacingly at the intruder. Before the beast can think about helping its comrade, however, Lance has fired three devastating shots into its chest; one over the heart, one mirroring that, and one in its guts. The Jaqat makes a strange squelching noise as it crumbles backwards by the force of the blasts, a dark ruddy liquid spraying violently into the air like a Tarantino movie. Lance swallows the uncomfortable swell of bile in his throat- he knows it isn’t _murder,_ per se, them being at war and all, but it’s still _killing_ something. Something that was, y’know, _alive._

He’s going to have to contemplate ethics later, right now he’s got to cover his dumbass future boyfriend. He watches Keith slip easily between the Hunter Jaqat’s legs, his sword biting deep in a clean slice across the fleshy inside like a hot knife through butter. Dark red splatters across the dirty floor, a few specs glancing off Keith’s body. It’s difficult for him to track Keith in the suit, and his speed certainly doesn’t help, but it turns out to be a good thing as the Jaqat can’t either. He is a shadow of flighty movement in the unnatural purple glow of the vat of quintessence, a glimmer in the corner of their vision that they can’t spot until he’s already upon them.

Lance grits his teeth and ends another Jaqat gangster’s life, resolutely ignoring the sharp stab of discomfort inside. Keith’s life is more important that theirs, he tells himself as he blows a hole clean through the first Jaqat in a wave of stomping backup. Cursing under his breath, he watches as six aliens, not including the one he just put down, storm in, blasting through thick double doors like they weighed nothing. His heart drops into his stomach and he whispers into his mic, trying to stay discreet as to not draw fire, “Keith! Six to your left! We need to get out of here, they can hear the shots!”

He hears Keith mutter angrily in his ear and he gets to work, clipping off a few rounds at a lumbering beast. It’s huge, that _bus_ sized variation Allura told them about, and Jesus it’s infinitely more terrifying when it’s not on a holoscreen. It stands easily a Lance or so above the heads of its companions, gaping mouth heavy with bared dinosaur fangs that drip with stringy saliva. The Jaqat snarls viciously and clambers forward, its weight and girth making it slower than the others. The first few shot bounce off like wads of paper, hardly even singeing the Hunter Jaqat’s thick skin.

“Fuck-” Mutters Lance as he adjusts his stance, creeping closer to the ledge to get a better angle. If he could just catch the inside of its thigh-

A sharp cry pierces his ear and he jerks into a wince, losing his aim on the massive Jaqat and pressing his fist to his head. He swivels his gaze in a sudden desperation, blue eyes wide with terror because that was _Keith’s_ voice he heard through the earpiece.

The Red Paladin, luckily, is still standing, but he holds his hip tightly with a pained grimace. Lance worries into the mic, “Keith?! Keith, are you okay?!”

Keith dodges the blind grab of a small (granted, this meant it was still taller than either of them) Jaqat and lashes out with a well timed uppercut of his sword. It slides easy into the neck of its target and out again, severing whatever arteries are necessary for Jaqat survival. It has only been seconds since the fight began and Keith is already a bloody mess, his tight suit now dripping in the stuff. “I’m fine, just a scratch. Take the big guy out!”

“Easier said than done!” Yelps Lance as he holds down the trigger of his blaster, a flurry of lasers heating the dingy atmosphere of the warehouse. They cut into one gangster that rushes beside the giant Jaqat, effectively mowing it down. The blasts miss its buddy, who jerks to an abrupt stop. It falls back onto its tail before flipping in a graceful arc to land in a crouch.

Lance cuts his aim to it, determined to take it out, and his gut gives a surprised lurch when the alien turns its big head to make eye contact with him. It tracked the light of the lasers from his gun and now is breaking into a dead sprint his way, thin reptile lips pulled back in a fierce, bloodthirsty snarl. The paladin grits his teeth, trepidation building like a tidal wave of nauseating emotion at his position being compromised. Two other Jaqats notice the path of their comrade, gazes jutting upwards to make out the glow of his blaster and the whites of his eyes, and quickly leave the giant beast to deal with Keith.

“ _Mierda-maldito-_ ” The young man bites, giving up all pretense of sneakiness in favor of firing a barrage of killshots.

The Jaqats, however, are clever, and they cut and dance around in random patterns to throw Lance off. He curses again as they grow closer, frustrated that he has to take his eyes off Keith and terrified of the potential of his own demise. His heart skips a beat in elation as he manages to land a solid hit through the soft neck of one of the gangsters. The other two are unbothered, focused solely on getting to the wall to jump to Lance’s hiding spot. They’ll be able to do it in one go. _You’re running out of time, Lance, move FASTER!_

He takes a quick, steadying breath, lines his sights on the closer of the two, and pumps three shots in swift succession. It dodges the first two yet falls victim to the last, and Lance gives a little _whoop!_ of victory. The other Jaqat, now close enough to make the leap, hesitates as it watches its friend collapse in a bloody heap onto the dark floor. Lance swings his blaster to set aim on it. His face hurts from how he scrunches it in concentration but that discomfort is drowned out by the roar of blood in his ears.

The Jaqat sees the gun pointed at it, black eyes absolutely livid with a murderous rage that sets Lance’s teeth on edge, and swiftly skits to the left. Lance misses the shot and damns his own shit reflexes. He should have taken the shot when he had it. The beast loops in a strange shape before squatting its powerful legs and taking the jump.

Lance startles and clambers back out of instinct, _stupid stupid instinct,_ almost losing his grip on his weapon in the process. The alien lands with a heavy jolt on the edge of the platform, wasting no time and giving no warning before it attacks Lance.

Without thinking, Lance holds down the trigger of his blaster, setting off a series of lasers that cut through the dim light and land everywhere but their intended target. Knowing that using his type of mid-range weapon in such close proximity would be pointless and easy for the Jaqat to evade, Lance does the first thing that comes to mind.

He throws himself to the side, sliding just underneath the swiping claws of the Jaqat, and jerks out his gun in an attempt at a hit. It lands against the side of the alien’s thick muzzle, making its head jerk painfully to the side and its body stagger back. Lance scrambles to right himself, legs kicking out in front of him as he shakily aims his weapon. Hitting the Jaqat did something bad to his arm, he can feel the sharp pain of trauma deep in the bones of his wrist and elbow, but he soldiers through it. The Jaqat whips its head back, snarls in an ear-splitting screech, and bounds at him.

Lance breathes, his heart stuttering almost to a stop, and he pulls the trigger.

One solid hole blows through the forehead of the beast. It swings back in an arc, metallic blood spraying obscenely above, and tugs back as if being controlled by puppet strings. Its corpse crashes to the ground and Lance takes a respite to quickly gather his wits about him. He refuses to look at the Jaqat again, slamming his eyes shut and forcing his mouth to open to suck in much needed air. It’s shakier than he would have liked but beggars can’t be choosers.

_“LANCE!”_

The Blue Paladin’s surroundings come back to him in a flurry of sound and color, and he launches himself to the ledge to stare down below. His face pales and his heart lodges in his clogged throat, “ _KEITH!_ ” He screams, lifting his blaster to assist his friend.

Another dead Jaqat, the last of the backup other than Large Marge over there, lays at Keith’s feet, body still twitching and jittering. The massive alien has its sights deadset on the Red Paladin, its gigantic clawed hands swinging heavily towards him. Lance gasps as Keith narrowly rolls out of the way. Keith jumps to his feet and rushes around the monster, trying to find an opening to get a good slice at its inner thighs, as the neck is not an option this time.

Keith looks fatigued. With the mask dislodged from fighting, Lance can see how waxier his skin looks, can trace the sweat that drips down his thick brow. He is favoring his left side, and obvious sign that his hip wound is hurting him more than he originally let on. Lance throws himself into action, trying to use his higher vantage point to get a solid shot. Every blast he fires glints off like the first ones and he finds himself having to halt mid-fire to avoid hitting Keith on accident. The boy is everywhere around the beast and being thwarted at every turn.

Even though the Jaqat is slower than the others, it is still capable of keeping up with Keith’s attacks. Worry burns hot in Lance’s gut while fear builds in Keith’s, their emotions mirroring each others’ as the fight continues.

And then, to Lance’s unparallelled horror, Keith missteps and trips over the fallen body of an alien.

 _“KEITH!”_ Shrieks Lance again as he stands with the intention to jump over the ledge.

Keith barks harshly, “Stay the _fuck_ there! Do NOT come down here!” His voice is a pained growl, haggard by pain and exhaustion.

Lance cries, “But, Keith-”

“Sta-”

Keith screams bloody murder.

The beast is upon Keith, using the momentary lapse in his flighty movements to seize him in one meaty paw. The human boy twists his body, trying to dodge its mighty grip but it’s already too late. The Jaqat lifts Keith by the middle into the air, tightening its hold so hard that the air leaves his lungs in a pathetic squeak.

Lance ignores whatever orders Keith gave him and lunges off the platform. He lands in an awkward tuck-n-roll onto the ground, thrusting himself upwards and ignoring how his left leg now pains him. He sprints towards them, positioning his weapon and shooting blindly into the beast’s back with a fierce battle cry.

Of course, they bounce harmlessly of it. Keith struggles in the alien’s grasp, pale face aghast with excruciating pain as it begins to crush him to death. His dark gaze flickers to Lance and he shakes his head in a jerky motion, mouth moving but no sound coming out.

Lance wants to sob at the obvious torture Keith is withstanding, but his rage burns hotter. He cannot- no, he _will not_ let this fucker hurt Keith!

“HEY, DICKFACE!” Screeches Lance at the top of his lungs, his taunt accompanied by a slew of laser bullets, “ _HIJO DE PUTA_!”

Shockingly, the beast stops crushing Keith. It holds him steady but slowly turns its great big head, beady eyes falling to a rest on Lance’s tiny form. A macabre smirk plays on its terrifying jowls, amusement clear in its evil gaze.

Lance steels himself even though he practically almost wets his pants, “YEAH, I’M TALKING TO YOU, ASSHOLE!”

The Jaqat cocks its head, apparently bemused by the sight of something so small standing up to it, and speaks, “Such a little thing you are!” Fuck, its voice is crazy loud, enough that Lance can feel his eardrums vibrating. “You want this back?” It shakes Keith a little, like a child showing off a toy. Keith cries out and slams his fists uselessly against the creature’s skin. It doesn’t even spare him a glance.

“LET HIM GO! FIGHT ME LIKE A MAN!” Lance shouts, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice. He tightens his grip on his weapon, has it aimed perfectly centered on the Jaqat’s head. It’ll take a few shots to break through that dome, for sure. Whatever. So long as the beast drops Keith. Lance can figure out what to do from there.

He glances at Keith. Fuck, he doesn’t look good. Broken ribs, for sure, judging by how Keith seems like he’s about to pass out. Lance would open fire now, but what if the Jaqat decides to pop Keith like a big ol’ cherry? He can’t take that risk.

“Let go, eh?” The Jaqat cackles a booming laugh, its terrible yellow fangs shining with sticky spit in the quintessence’s light. Lance notices that the beast is standing oddly close to the vat, it large enough that it can easily reach the open top. The mauve liquid inside continues to swirl unnaturally, seemingly drawn to the violence. “You’re funny, little one. I will do as you ask.”

Cautious relief floods Lance’s system like a drug, so strong that he has to blink away a stray tear. Good, good, anything for Keith, he’ll do _anything_ for him, even fight gigantor one-on-one. Fuck, he’ll do it naked if that’s what it took.

Keith eyes the beast warily, reaching up to wipe at an irritating drizzle of blood that pours from his mouth. His insides feel like they’re on _fire_. Something is definitely broken, and he even thinks he can feel his rib poking into his right lung. His breathing has an unnerving rattle to it that makes him sick to think about. Darkness swirls in the corners of his vision, lurking silently, at the ready to drag him into an abyss he is sure to never wake from. He would hack but finds he can’t even do that.

The Jaqat does not drop Keith to the ground like Lance had been expecting. Instead it swings Keith to the right and dangles him above the vat.

Any hope comes crashing down as Lance shakes his head, voice filled with a desperation that sounds foreign to his own ears, “No, no-!”

Keith stares at Lance as his legs kick futilely above the cask. He can feel a strange warmth emanating from the sea of energy down below. It makes his skin tingle and electrify. He tries to wheeze something, maybe a last _“vol...tron…?”_ to make Lance’s grief stricken face brighten into that smile he loves. What a sight to see before the inevitable end. Whatever he says comes out as a whisper. He still wears his earpiece, so knows Lance can hear him but, funnily, the thought doesn’t give him as much comfort as it should.

And then, without preamble, the Jaqat releases Keith.

And Keith falls.

Down.

Down.

_Down._

Lance hears it, murmured like a summer breeze in his ear, caressing the side of his face as a lover would.

_“-love...you....Lance….”_

The Red Paladin disappears into the murky, radioactive quintessence with a resounding _splash!_ He can’t fight the suction pull of the bizarre currents. He sinks to the bottom of the pit, broken body as heavy as a rock.

Lance stares blindly. He can’t hear anything- can’t hear anything but Keith’s wobbly voice, can’t hear anything but the _splash!_ of Keith's limbs hitting the surface.

He can’t even hear himself scream.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been on my mind quite awhile. It feels good to put it out there! I am really excited to post this finally. I SHOULD be working on finals and updating [On the Breeze](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12552948/chapters/28587916), buuuuut I REALLY wanted to write this. And I came up with TWO MORE Shklance fic ideas. I am a little nervous about doing those ones though....
> 
> The theme song for this fic, funnily enough, is _[Animals](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qpgTC9MDx1o)_ by Maroon 5. It'll fit later, I swear.
> 
> ANYWAYS, I want to make this C L E A R from the beginning. **THERE WILL BE NO KNOTTING IN THIS FIC OR ANY OF MY FICS, EVER.**  
>  I know it SOUNDS sketch....but just bear with me.  
> I hoped you enjoyed this first chapter...do not fear too much for our boys. Their trials make them stronger!  
> Get ready for a SHIT TON of violence and angst in the next chapter!  
> Also the number of chapters is just a set for now...it'll probably only be 5 but you never know.


	2. Warrior.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _So if I run it's not enough_  
>  _You're still in my head forever stuck._  
>  -Maroon 5, _Animals_

Hunk scratches at the back of his neck, chasing away a stubborn itch caused by his own sweat. You would think with them being northmost and all it’d be chilly, but that’s not how this planet works apparently. It’s hot as balls here and the two paladins are quickly rethinking their choice to wear their tight flight suits. The black material sticks uncomfortably to their damp skin and pulls irritably when they try to make bigger movements. The stuffy warehouse they’re scoping out doesn’t have air conditioning. Do aliens know what air conditioning is? Do they need it? He sighs and looks over at Pidge.

Her brows are pulled tight in concentration and her forehead beads with sweat. She hardly pays it any mind as she types furiously into her laptop. They’re trying to hack into the lone control boards they found in the warehouse their contact directed them to. Already having checked three others and found them all to be busts, Hunk isn’t too confident that they’d find anything here either. He’s starting to think that this district is just a decoy, and he doesn’t have to ask Pidge to know she probably feels the same.

Pidge gives a hearty  _ whoop!  _ as she cracks into the server and Hunk is quick to shush her. They’re trying to be  _ stealthy,  _ damn it. “Alright! There’s a few files on here, I’m going to download them and send them straight to the castle’s mainframe.”

Hunk nods and smiles broadly at her, “Great! Hurry up, though, this place gives me the creeps.”

His companion glances around, the harsh blue light of her laptop glinting off her round glasses as she adjusts them, “It  _ is _ a little weird that we haven’t run into many guards at any of the warehouses….”

“Yeah. It is weird.” His smile slips into a contemplative frown and he takes a look at the communicator on his arm. The empty warehouses aren’t the only things concerning him. Shiro checked in a little while ago but he hasn’t heard from Keith and Lance’s end in awhile. He taps on Lance’s icon and attempts to dial him, “Pidge, could you try to call Keith? I’m starting to think something’s not right here.”

Pidge looks at the downloading icon at 24% and nods, “Yeah, you would think Lance would have made a joke by now.”

“He can take missions seriously, too.” Hunk is always quick to defend his friend even if he sometimes might have little faith in the boisterous flirt machine.

“I know that,” Says Pidge as she thumbs Keith’s icon, “but he’s with Keith. Like he’d be able to handle himself alone around him.”

Hunk scoffs in amusement, imagining the bright red cheeks of his best friend as he whispers about Keith’s abs in Hunk’s room in the dead of night. Lance sure likes to talk even at the expense of his friends. Pidge and Hunk have heard enough about Keith’s ‘dumb’ (luscious) hair and his ‘stupid’ (soulful) eyes to write a damn book about them. Pidge is right, the human disaster known as Lance McClain could barely handle being in the same room as Keith without making a total fool out of himself. 

Not to mention Lance likes to check in with Hunk on missions regularly to see if he’s okay. It’s an endearing trait of his and often reminds Hunk how much he truly loves Lance. He hasn’t checked in once since him and Keith first landed. It could be nothing...or it could be something bad. With a sharp, sudden pang of worry and discomfort, Hunk focuses on the dialing signal on his communicator. 

_ Ping...ping...ping...NO CONNECTION. _

Hunk’s heart drops with a  _ plop!  _ into his stomach. He tries again,  _ maybe they just have bad signal. _

Pidge speaks up, “No connection? But we made sure these babies had the strongest signal boosters out there!” Her tone is frustrated but Hunk can detect the underlying growing fear. She is just as frightened as he is by the bad news.

“I’m trying Lance again. If it doesn’t connect I’m going to call Coran. Maybe he can get a better channel from the castle.” 

Pidge grunts in agreement and taps Keith again, knee bouncing haphazardly, “C’mon emo boy, don’t keep a gal waitin’....”

The connection is lost again and Hunk curses under his breath, drawing the wide eyed gaze of his teammate. Not wanting to scare the younger girl too badly, he tries to keep his voice light, “Okay, I’m going to call Coran now.”

“I’ll check in with Shiro, see if he’s heard from them.” Pidge busies herself with doing so. The download is now at 54% and moving too damn slow. Anxiety makes her fingers numb and her skin clammy. What if they’re hurt?! 

The connection is almost instantaneous to the castle, furthering Hunk’s apprehension with the situation. Coran’s voice cheerily answers him,  _ “Hello, Hunk! Is everything alright down there?” _

Just hearing the older alien’s voice soothes some of the worries inside him. He sometimes forgets that he’s still sort of a kid, even through all this madness, and having a capable adult around can be a huge comfort. He tries to hide the shake in his voice, “Uh, with us, yeah, but it’s Lance and Keith. I haven’t heard from them in awhile. I just wanted to know if you had.”

The comm is silent for an uneasy second before Coran speaks again, this time his tone far more serious,  _ “No, I haven’t. Have you asked Shiro?” _

Hunk glances over at Pidge and pales at what he sees. She is staring in shock at her comm, and the light of the computer screen casts her features into a frightful parody of themselves. Hunk hurries to her side and reads her arm.

_ NO CONNECTION. _

“Shit!” Hisses Hunk as he turns his attention back to his own communicator, “Coran, we can’t get in touch with Shiro and Allura, either!”

_ “Princess!” _ Coran bites to himself in worry,  _ “Hang on, paladins, I’m going to try to contact them as well.” _

Hunk’s comm goes silent and the two humans share a terrified look. 

“Th-they’ve got to be okay,” Pidge protests, “I mean, it’s Shiro and Allura, for shit’s sake. And Keith and Lance are the best combo since peanut butter and jelly.”

Hunk is distracted when he nods his agreement, his mind too preoccupied with images of his best friends’ broken bodies.  _ Lance, Keith...what kind of trouble did you get yourselves into?  _

Suddenly both Pidge and Hunk’s communicators crackle to life, startling them in the otherwise resounding silence of the empty warehouse. Hunk’s reads  _ CASTLE MAINFRAME  _ and Pidge’s  _ ALLURA.  _ They two glance at each other before answering simultaneously. Instantly they are bombarded with a borage of voices.

_ “PIDGE! Pidge, you and Hunk need to get OUT of there IMMEDIATELY. This is an ORDER!”  _ Comes Allura’s panicked screech. Pidge winces and holds her arm out from herself to keep from becoming deaf before thirty.

Coran isn’t any better,  _ “Hunk, you two need to evacuate now!” _

“Why?!” Both Hunk and Pidge demand. The Green Paladin is already finishing up the downloading process and gathering her laptop’s components hurriedly, practically tripping over herself in doing so.

_ “We were set up!”  _ Allura informs them, and in the background are the unmistakable sounds of battle.  _ “Shiro!”  _ She calls, her voice going distant for a moment while she yells to her partner,  _ “To your left!” _

_ “NOW, paladins!”  _ Beckons Coran.

They didn’t have to tell them twice. Hunk and Pidge remove their bayards from their holsters as they rush towards the exit of the warehouse. Their lions were hidden in some foliage nearby, luckily for them, and would only take five minutes or so to sprint to. 

Pidge bursts through the side doors first, leaping over a tiny set of stairs. She barks into the comm, “What about Keith and Lance?!” 

Allura doesn’t answer for a moment as the sounds of her grunts come from the device. She must be jumping or fighting something off. Finally she responds,  _ “We will all convene to their location  _ immediately. _ Their silence is worrisome.” _

_ Tell me about it!  _ Hunk wants to cry in frustration. Jesus, Lance... _ Lance, Keith why aren’t you answering?! _

 

* * *

 

It feels like a mighty clawed hand is reaching into Lance’s chest and slowly tearing his lungs to ribbons. 

He’s hyperventilating, he realizes belatedly. His breathing has escalated to dangerous speeds that roar loudly in his deaf ears and pain his sore throat. His fingers ache from where they crush his blaster to his chest. Face feeling oddly wet-  _ when did he start crying? _ \- he doesn’t react as snot and drool dribble silently down his chin. He has no concept of disgust, of direction, of anything but the sudden, irrevocable emptiness inside. 

_ “We had a bonding moment! I cradled you in my arms!” _

He tries to scream again, wants to have some way to release the whirlwind of crushing anguish inside, but the sound lodges painfully behind his uvula. His breathing was ragged and unnatural before but now halts. He sucks in air but his lungs don’t get the memo. They continue to lie dormant and useless inside. 

_ “Shut up and trust me!” _

Is his heart even beating anymore? Or did it stop alongside Keith’s when his body hit the quintessence? 

_ Keith’s hand in his, warm and solid and good, not even an hour ago- _

“Ke...” Lance attempts to speak but all that comes out is a pathetic groan. He carries the groan until it grows into a howl of wretchedness. Without realizing it, the paladin has fallen to his knees. They are surely bruised by the force of hitting concrete but he doesn’t feel it. He is incapable of experiencing anything but the grief twisting like a knife in his gut. 

_ Keith trying to hide his dorky giggles behind his palm. Keith beating the hell out of the training bots like it was nothing. Keith wearing that stupid red jacket and those stupid tight pants and refusing to cut his damn hair- _

_ Keith doing whatever it took to bring Shiro home.  _

_ Keith terrified that his Galra heritage would cause him to lose  _ another _ home,  _ another _ family, when the stupid idiot never had any cause to fear, not with Lance there- _

A choking breath. A scream,  _ “KEITH!” _

_ Keith comforting everyone in his own strange way even though he himself was hurting. _

_ Keith loving space and flying and Red and his damn knife- _

_ Keith loving his team so fucking much- _

_ Keith loving- _

He can’t see anything but the vat of mauve quintessence. In that moment he despises the vicious color. He can’t see the drugs or the bodies or the huge Jaqat lumbering his way. Nothing can tear his gaze away from his love’s final resting place.

That is, until the jarring  _ thud!  _ of the creature’s footsteps closing in momentarily distract him from his plight. He cocks his head to gaze up at Keith’s murderer, the angle keeping the tears from blurring his vision. The damn thing is  _ grinning _ at him. Its beady eyes are gleeful with a sort of sadism that chills Lance to the bone, and its terrifying yellow fangs drip with a goopy saliva that drip from its open maw to the floor. It grows closer.

_ Keith dropping into the vat. Keith muttering his final words to him. Keith, Red Paladin of Voltron - dead- _

Abruptly his pain is erased and replaced with the burning hell fires of vengeance. They lick and scorch along his numbed insides, forcing them back into wakefulness. As he clambors to his feet, his heart begins to rage with a thirst for blood he has never felt before. It  _ demands _ to see the guts of the Jaqat splattered across the dark ground, lusts for the sight of its head in his hands. Do Allura and Coran feel this? Everytime they see Galra? 

It is terrifying.

But it is also so, so  _ invigorating _ . 

His petty human teeth clench so hard the pressure might shatter them and with a desperate battle cry he lifts his weapon high. Being closer allows for better access to the Jaqat’s fleshy inner thighs and he focuses his attention there, startled by the clarity of his own soldier’s instincts. A voice that barks like Commander Iverson howls like a murderous beast in his head, steady and hot as molten lead- burning, frying,  _ melting _ him until his vulnerable human flesh drips to the earth and leaves the beaten metal skeleton of a warrior scorned. 

Lance fires off shot after shot with a deadly accuracy, standing his ground with his feet braced strong in the ground. He will not be moved, he  _ will not be moved!  _ The Jaqat makes a pained clicking noise as the lasers burn and cut through the more vulnerable tissue of its inner thighs. A dark liquid oozes from its wounds and it appears surprised by this, shock flitting around its hateful eyes at the audacity of this puny human. It stomps forward, Lance’s blasts not sniping deep enough to keep the monster at bay.

The Jaqat’s thin lips are slick with glistening saliva as its long tongue licks at them. Its fangs bite together once, twice, in anticipation of closing around Lance’s torso. It wants to crunch on the human’s brittle bones, slurp the meat right off and listen to the delightful screams of excruciating torture. Little beasties like Lance taste best when consumed with an all encompassing sorrow, as he is now.

It smirks wildly at him as Lance continues his fruitless efforts. It will scar, surely, but it’ll just serve as a reminder of the foolish creature who tried to kill him. It reaches down and Lance jerks back, escaping the first attempt to grasp him. 

He rolls to the left and lunges around the Jaqat, his stature being smaller than the murderer chasing him a blessing in disguise. The Jaqat is slower because of his large size and Lance takes full advantage of it, skirting in a large circle to avoid every swipe. He changes up his path randomly, each time catching the massive alien off guard and causing it to growl in irritation. He pops off a never ending stream of rounds into whatever vulnerability he can spot, his aim more impeccable than it ever has been.

The Jaqat is starting to become frustrated with its inability to quickly catch the flitting human. It releases an angry bellow, slashing at Lance with a forceful swing, “Why won’t you just stand still?! Join your friend in the afterlife!” Lance dodges the blind grab again and its swipe crashes through a few shelves. The shelves are filled with thick metal and glass casings that tear and shatter as its hit slams through them, and many shards bite into the Jaqat’s arm and hand. It roars in pain and swivels around, its temporary distraction plenty enough to allow Lance to get far away.

There’s a sudden bright glint and then the Jaqat’s left eye flares in pain. The vision in it blurs and reds, and it lifts its hand to it. It shrieks inhumanly in the Jaqat language, another phrase or word that the Lions cannot seem to translate. A cruel smirk cuts across Lance’s hardened features and he adjusts to attempt a shot at the other eye, now situated near the vat with his back to it. He can distantly hear splashing from within and chalks it up to the strangeness of the liquid energy. 

“YOU PUNY LITTLE-” The Jaqat screeches and it finally faces Lance, its good eye focusing on his smaller form with a burning hatred that just almost matches the sheer inferno inside Lance, “I’LL GET YOU! I’LL GET YOU AND YOUR LITTLE LIONS!”

At the mention of the Lions, Lance pauses, eyes shooting wide. It knows about the Lions?! It knows he’s a paladin?!

The Jaqat laughs viciously at Lance’s shocked expression, looking like something straight out of a horror sci-fi Lance might have once enjoyed. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to enjoy stuff like that ever again. It jeers with an ugly sneer, “That’s right! I know who you are, Blue Paladin! The Galra only want your Lions! They don’t need the owners, said I could do  _ anything _ I wanted with you! Boss is going to be  _ ecstatic _ when I tell them I killed not only the infamous Red one, but the  _ Blue _ one, too!” It guffaws in a bombing tone again, practically shaking the ground with the vibrations of it.

It cuts off midway with a choke, however, when Lance aims and fires three perfect shots into its mouth. It hacks and spits violently, tongue singed and bleeding gloriously. If Lance thought the beast looked straight out of hell before, that had nothing on  _ this _ monstrosity. The Jaqat snarls, pushed off the cliff into pure rage.

Lance sets his jaw and schools his expression back into one of determination. His will, his fury, his heartbreak; it is  _ stronger _ than this creature could ever hope to reach. He yells, his voice tearing through his hurting throat without care, “YOU WILL NOT LIVE TO TELL THEM, AND WHEN I’M DONE WITH YOU, I’M  _ COMING FOR THEM, TOO! _ ”

With its left eye now heavily swollen and bloody, the Jaqat’s good eye narrows and its huge body lurches forward. Its large foot stomps thoughtlessly onto a corpse of its fallen comrade, crushing it without preamble. Lance dutifully ignores the disgusting  _ pop!  _ of a skull exploding and the sickening gush of all sorts of unnamable fluids that begin to stain the ground. Lance takes a step back, intending to draw the Jaqat in before jutting to the left and starting their dance all over again. 

He’ll stay in the Jaqat’s blind spot and keep taking shots until the damn beast dies. That’s all he can do to take it down. Lance’s arms are burning with the effort to keep such a heavy weapon level, and his legs are beginning to tighten and strain. But he can’t focus on physical pains now. The Jaqat is coming and coming  _ fast! _

The Jaqat is nearing, believing Lance’s steady shots into its thighs and face are his only defense. It reaches for him, glass twinkling as it is uprooted from its hand by the Jaqat’s movements, and Lance feints to the right before storming to the left-

And he goes airborne as the Jaqat, instead of actually trying to grab Lance, slams its great fist into the earth. The concussion from the strike forces Lance’s feet out from under him and, with a surprised shriek, he goes flying into a pile of broken glass.

A shard slices into the left side of his face as he is unable to protect it for he holds more tightly onto his weapon. The glass cuts into his forearm and legs, some wounds deep and others shallow. The blood flows thick instantly and the pain comes with it. His bones ache from crashing into the ground and he winces, a broken curse leaving his bloodied lips. He gasps and flips around onto his ass, staring up in horror as the Jaqat bears down upon him.

“I’VE GOT YOU NOW!”

Lance lifts his weapon but it won’t be enough, he isn’t fast enough, isn’t strong enough-

His mind flashes to his mother. She smiles welty at him and bids him a sad goodbye. His siblings sob and clutch at his father’s clothes.

Shiro holds on tight to Allura as she screams and beats at his chest, his own eyes vacant and looking like they’ve aged a million years. Coran stands aimlessly in Lance’s empty room, lost and confused and waiting for him to return, to offer to help with chores and listen to his long winded stories of Altea. 

Pidge doesn’t sleep without Lance around to make sure she does. She grows unhealthy and sullen, all childish hope and wonder sucked out of her through a bendy straw. Hunk is even worse. He doesn’t eat, doesn’t sleep, doesn’t laugh. He cries into the void where his best friend once stood and never, ever leaves his destitute. 

But Keith...Keith is already dead. He waits for Lance, for  _ somebody, _ waits for them to come and free him from death’s lonely grasp. Lance can do that. Lance can be there for him in perdition. Lance will always be Keith’s right hand man, and nothing as insignificant as death is going to change that.

Lance allows his bayard to shift back into its dormant form. It drops uselessly to his side and he sits up proud. He might be bleeding, he might be bruised, but he doesn’t feel that pain anymore. He glares fearlessly into the Jaqat’s triumphant grin, chin held high and nostrils flared with a righteous anger. If he is going to die at the claws of this beast then fuck is he going to go  _ proud- _

There is a loud splash, the sure sound of something emerging from a pool of water, and Lance can’t write it off this time. His confused blue eyes flit to the right and his breath catches like slimy glue in his throat. The Jaqat pays no mind, but it really should have.

Because in the span of the few seconds it takes for Lance to realize what exactly it is he is looking at, the creature that emerged from the vat of quintessence tears open the Jaqat’s throat as if it were made from nothing more than wet tissue paper.

  
  


* * *

 

  
  


“Allura!” Hunk barks into his comm, “Allura, what happened?!”

Yellow races after Green and soon the two easily put the warehouses behind them. Their Lions may not be the fastest of the bunch, but their speeds were mightily impressive. They both type in the last known coordinates of the Red and Blue Lions and set course. At their rates, they should get there in ten minutes at the most.

Allura doesn’t answer for a few long seconds, driving both Pidge and Hunk up the wall with worry. Suddenly their Lions’ feeds open to reveal a frazzled Allura and a grim-faced Shiro, both sporting singed armor and equally dark expressions. As Shiro has Black take flight, Allura latches on to the back of his pilot’s chair and fills them in,  _ “Shiro and I were in a-a factory of sorts, it looked abandoned on the outside but inside it was fully functional. It wasn’t the main distribution center, wasn’t big enough, but it was one of their factories.” _

“Was?” Questions Pidge breathlessly.

Shiro’s lips quirk ever so as Allura answers,  _ “We took care of it. One of the Jaqat gangsters ‘informed,’”  _ She emphasises the word,  _ “us that the Galra are on their way, and that this was a set up.” _

“By who?!” Hunk says.

_ “That I don’t know, but it has to be someone higher up in command. The drugs, though, did either of you two see any?” _

Pidge and Hunk shake their heads, and Pidge speaks, “No, there was nobody at the warehouse when we got there. All there was were some computers and I got all the information off of them.”

Allura reaches into a utility pocket on the side of her flight suit, pulling out a tiny vial of a familiar purple liquid. It twinkles and sloshes slowly around in strange patterns, as if it had a mind of its own. 

Hunk gasps, “Is that pure  _ quintessence? _ ”

The princess nods and pockets it again, “I’m afraid so. Either the Galra have been supplying this planet with quintessence….”

“Or?” Questions Pidge.

“Or there’s something much sinister at play here.” Allura finishes.

Shiro nods, “What’s most important now is getting to Keith and Lance. We couldn’t get in touch with them, either.”

Hunk mutters an obscenity under his breath, throat constricting in panicked worry for his friends. Pidge isn’t faring much better.

The next five minutes are spent with Allura informing Coran of what has been happening. The rest of the paladins are silent, save for Pidge who mumbles to herself, as she does when she’s underneath a lot of stress.

“Please be okay, please be okay-” She chants softly, the words souring in the oppressing atmosphere. Shiro’s hands tighten around the controls of his Lion. If they’re hurt, if something’s happen to them...how will he live with himself? He grits his teeth and urges his Lion to go faster. They’re just  _ kids,  _ for fuck’s sake, just  _ kids.  _ He has to protect them, no matter the cost, no matter the sacrifice-

“What the fuck is  _ that?! _ ” 

Hunk’s screech breaks Shiro out of his angry thoughts and he blinks, bringing his vision back into focus. His breath leaves him in a pathetic  _ woosh _ and he chokes, “W-what the-?”

They are approaching Eruk fast. Shiro and Allura can see the Yellow and Green Lions in the far distant sky, the lights of the tourist city glinting obnoxiously off their painted exteriors. They are not what catches Shiro’s eye, however.

No, below is Eruk, shining as brightly as ever.

And surrounding it,  _ doming _ it in a great big encompass, is a fortified forcefield.

Allura’s breath sticks in her throat and a hand covers her mouth, “N-no wonder we can’t reach them….”

Coran speaks from the comm, his face aghast yet his jaw set in determination, “The shield is blocking our signal, princess! We can’t connect to them!”

“Coran-” Allura asks, “-what brand of shield is that?”

His gaze blackens and his fingers clench around the castle controls, “It’s a  _ Galrax 45xL,  _ princess.” He glances at some scribbling that the castle is feeding to him, “Of the Quizard Series. Impenetrable, long lasting,  _ energy efficient. _ ”

“What does that even  _ mean?!”  _ Snaps Pidges.

“It means, Pidge,” States Allura, “That there’s only one way to turn off that shield. From the inside.”

Hunk stares at her through the monitor, eyes big and round and  _ scared,  _ “Th-that means-”

“Yes. Keith and Lance are trapped.” She shudders and grasps Shiro’s shoulder as both a display of comfort and a grab for some,  “And we can’t do anything about it.”

 

* * *

 

  
  


“W….” Lance mumbles softly as he slowly inches to his feet, “what…?” 

The paladin is beyond shocked but he can’t possibly be as surprised as the dying Jaqat just feet away. It chokes and gurgles on a splurting fountain of blood, falling to its knees before the hulking form of its killer. Murky darkness splatters across the ground as it seizes in a deathly spasm, its good eye going unclear before it rolls lifelessly into the back of its huge head. 

Lance watches soundlessly as the beast collapses entirely in a flopping heap upon the ground, flinching at the great  _ boom!  _ it makes. The taste of copper in his mouth startles him into clarity and he stumbles to his feet, gaze tearing from the corpse of the monster that appeared so deathless just a moment ago to the new creature before him.

His brows tighten in confusion, “G-Galra…?” He questions, mind racing to reach a believable conclusion. 

The figure stands from its crouch, its height startlingly impressive. Its violet back is bare and all that saves the alien from complete nudity is a pair of torn, tight flight suit trousers that stick to its muscular thighs and calves like a second skin. It faces the dead Jaqat, tilts its head and gives the air a sniff.

Why is a Galra here? Did they land already? His brain switches to hyperdrive at that, instantly focusing on a crushing worry for his remaining friends. They were set up! If Keith and Lance were this badly hit, Lance can only imagine what the others must be experiencing. His throat constricts at the thought of more of his friends dying on this shit hole of a planet. He  _ has _ to get to them...but first, to get past this new obstacle. 

The Galra is tall, far taller than Lance at the very least, with almost three heads of length surpassing his own, and broad shouldered. Its arms are like something you’d see in a superhero movie, harboring an obvious strength that could easily crush a puny human’s head like a grape. At the small of its back is a long, twitching purple tail, its end a poof of coarse fur- like a lion’s tail. It flicks back and forth irritably, and at the sound of Lance’s voice, darts closer to the Galra’s body. Lance notices a liquid dripping from it and while at first his horrified mind told him it was blood, upon longer inspection he finds it might just be-

Lance gasps, “Quintessence!” 

The Galra is  _ drenched _ in the stuff, so much so that there is a glowing puddle of it pooling at its feet. Its mane of thick purple hair is stringy and wet, beads of quintessence drip down its skin. The Galra doesn’t seem to pay its soaked state any mind, however. 

Lance hears it rumble lowly, a mixture of a growl and a snarl, and his spine seizes into stiffness. At least he was a bit faster than the Jaqat. He doesn’t think he can elude this Galra for very long. 

Fuck! His bayard! He chances a glance down at it. His weapon lays on the floor where he dropped it, its whiteness glinting in the low light. He looks back to the Galra and slowly begins to lean down….

The Galra senses his movement and twirls in a whirlwind of splattering quintessence and wild limbs. A few drops splash across Lance’s cheek and the skin there begins to heat instantly. The burn is light enough to ignore as he freezes in place, halfway bent towards his weapon and blue eyes wide with fear-

But those heavy brows, the high cheekbones- they are  _ human.  _ Those thin lips pulled into a terrifying snarl, mawl full of glinting vicious fangs that Lance can feel piercing his vulnerable skin already, are  _ familiar. _ He should know them, surely, as he has spent many stolen hours hiding longing stares their way. He has imagined them pressing tightly to his own, daydreamed of them tracing the intimate lines of his body, wondered how they would mold to his as his tongue plundered past them. 

And even though the skin there is now a vivid violet, the slope of the Galra’s nose is strong and smooth and, most importantly, recognizable. Lance’s breath is caught like a mouse in the trap, his gaze unable to wrench itself away. He begins to straighten, starting with a roll in his hips to raise his back, but halts abruptly at the low rumble his effort instigates. His breath leaves him in a relieving rush and he swallows shallowly.

“Keith-” Lance doesn’t realize he’s calling his friend’s name until it’s already passed his lips, “-buddy-”

Keith is…. Well, they’ve always  _ known _ that Keith is at least half Galra. But he’s looking, uh, a little bit more  _ purple _ and  _ alien-y _ than usual. Not to mention the total  _ growth spurt _ he’s been subject to.

“Jesus Christ….” Breathes Lance, “What did that shit  _ do _ to you?!”

Large Galra ears, not unlike bats back on Earth but a shit ton fuzzier, twitch on the sides of Keith’s head at the sound of Lance’s voice. Lance takes quick stock of Keith’s new body, noting the obvious lack of any and all wounds he suffered from earlier. Reprieve, sharp and euphoric, twists uncomfortably within Lance’s chest, so strong that it forces tears into his eyes. 

“You’re okay, you’re  _ okay, _ fuck, Keith,  _ joder, Dios mío, estás bien.”  _ In another long, slow movement, as to not spook Keith, Lance finally raises to his full height. God, his head is at Keith’s pectorals, this is so  _ unfair.  _ “A little, uh, purple, yeah, but you’re okay. We can work with uh, er, a-all of this.” 

Keith’s condition isn’t exactly a  _ wound, _ Lance doesn’t think a fun jaunt in the healing pod will do much for him. But it’s fine-it’s  _ fine,  _ this isn’t the end of the world, Lance can  _ deal  _ with this.

“I’m just-” Lance’s breath stutters and his lips pull into a helplessly adoring smile, “I’m just so happy you’re alive.” The stretching of his cheeks reminds him of the quintessence irritating his skin, like a chemical burn. 

But Keith doesn’t answer him. He just continues to stare at Lance with those big golden eyes-

And Lance realizes there’s nothing human in  _ those. _

“Ke...Keith…?” 

Keith growls again, this time lower and longer, an obvious warning.

Lance’s insides go icy at the sound and his limbs lock fearfully. Keith, he...he sounds like a fucking  _ lion.  _ And with the way those eyes are looking, Lance is going to start sounding like  _ prey _ in a minute.

“Fuck. Keith?” Lance tries again, arms raising mindlessly by his chest in preparation.

And Keith doesn’t like that. A snarl rips from his  _ (huge and muscular and broad and now is SO not the time, Lance!)  _ chest, so deep and powerful there’s no way it doesn’t hurt to tear it out, and he takes a menacing step towards Lance.

There’s only a few feet’s distance between the two. Lance takes quick stock of it, mind moving at lightspeed. If he tries to run, Keith will be upon him in seconds. If he tries to fight, he will lose to Keith’s superior strength. That leaves only one option.

He has to try to reason with him.

Lance licks his lips, a nervous tick he’s developed in his time in space, and coos softly, keeping his voice light and friendly, “Hey, buddy. Keith, this isn’t you, you’re not like them. You’re a Paladin of Voltron, remember? Come back to me, Keith, I can help you. I’ll protect you, okay?”

Keith’s gaze doesn’t waver and he leans closer, nostrils constricting in a deep sniff of the air. His face scrunches in blatant confusion for a second before smoothing into intrigue. He takes two steps and suddenly is less than a meter away, his incredible frame  _ much _ larger than Lance’s and scaring the ever living shit out of him.

Lance can’t control his reaction. He scrambles a foot backwards, shoes crunching across the broken glass below.

Keith’s expression hardens again, once more morphing into a vicious spitting snarl that’s more monster than man. He jerks forward and Lance screams as the Galra hybrid descends upon him.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Sorry this installment took so long, and that it isn't as lengthy as the first chapter. I split this chapter up for updating speed and dramatic purposes.  
> I am very busy with work. I work CONSTANTLY. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love money, but shit, dawg.  
> Anyways, check out my new story I just posted the other day, [So, an AWOL water goddess left you in charge of her shrine](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14756933/chapters/34122572). It's a Kamisama Kiss AU! For those of you who do not know what Kamisama Kiss is, my fic is basically a God!Lance and Familiar!Keith AU.


	3. Monster.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Baby, I'm preying on you tonight_  
>  _hunt you down, eat you **alive.**_  
>  _Maybe you think that you can hide_  
>  _but I can smell your scent for miles."_  
>  -Maroon 5, _Animals_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **CHAPTER WARNINGS: Blood and violence**

 

 

 

 

Contrary to popular belief, Lance has never really been up close and personal with a Galra before today. He tends to stick to higher ground and long distances, the perfect vantage points for his ranged weapon of choice. Due to this, he’s never had the chance to see just how _large_ and _sharp_ their teeth and claws really are.

And boy, is he sure glad for that.

A terrified shriek is ripped from his chest as Keith launches his huge body towards him, mawl open wide with every intention to clamp down around Lance’s fleshy throat. Lance’s right arm lifts instinctively to block the attack as he jerks backwards, not nearly fast enough to evade the jaws closing in. There’s a terrifying _crunch!_ that Lance thinks might be his own bones for a scarring moment before his vision focuses again.

Keith’s teeth did not sink into flesh or bone, but instead into the communicator and navigational system Lance still had strapped around his forearm. The vicious canines tear effortlessly, like dexterous fingers through raw cotton, into the metal and latch on as determinedly as an alligator would. Lance shouts fearfully again as the force of Keith’s new heavy body barrels into him and takes them both to the soiled ground. His lower back slams into the broken glass still littering the earth and he chokes on a pained hiss as the air is wrenched from his aching lungs.

He can feel the wetness of warm blood accompanying sharp pinpricks of pain across his back but he ignores them as Keith looms darkly above. Luckily Keith decided to brace his hands on either side of Lance’s head instead of using their claws to slice at him. His jaws continue to work around the metal on Lance’s arm, and Lance stares up into wild golden eyes.

“Keith, Keith please-” Lance is cut off by his own painful yelp as Keith’s knees dig into his thighs, keeping him pinned and helpless, “-it’s _me,_ it’s _Lance._ ”

Keith only growls back, the sound muffled by armor. The comm is beyond destroyed at this point but it’s the only thing protecting Lance’s important arteries from Keith’s fangs. He prays it holds just a bit longer-

“Keith, _Keith-_ ” He whimpers, tears building in his eyes. Is this how he is going to go? At the hands of the man he loves?

The teeth sinking into the metal crack through and slice shallowly into Lance’s forearm. The paladin gasps, more in shock than in pain, and his tears flow freely down his face in thick currents. Keith’s face is so close to his that he can see the little scar on Keith’s mouth stretching with his lips’ movements, can see it twitchin, pulling, slackening….

Suddenly, the growling tapers off into low rumbling, not nearly as aggressive in tone and more...inquisitive. Keith blinks and pulls back, releasing Lance’s arm and revealing bloodied tips of fangs. His tongue darts up to feel along them, tasting the gore there and outwardly cringing at it. Lance watches in surprised upset, his body still trembling and quaking beneath Keith’s.

Keith shakes his head, his expression tugging into a more _human_ look of confusion. He sits back, the shift in weight making his knees push more uncomfortably into Lance’s thighs. Lance sucks in a hurt breath, arm still hovering over his neck. Keith shakes his head more vigorously, like he’s trying to dislodge something from his hair, and grabs at it, claws digging into his scalp. He growls again but this time Lance can tell it is directed towards Keith himself.

The pain from his own claws seems to drag Keith from the depths for he pants and groans, “ _L-Lance…?_ ”

Lance’s heart leaps for joy and he sits up slowly, being careful not to move too fast. A shaky smile stretches Lance’s mouth and he nods, “Keith, it’s me, your friend. Come back to me, baby.”

He’s too preoccupied with consoling Keith that he doesn’t notice his own choice of words. Keith stares down at Lance with lidded eyes, exhaustion and confusion clear in his gaze, “What...what happened?” His vision sharpens and he grabs Lance’s arm, inspecting the damage done to the communicator, “You’re hurt! I-” His face freezes before slackening into agony, “I-I did this.”

Keith lifts his hands and stares at them, his fingers shaking visibly. Lance grabs them, being careful of the claws, and rubs his thumbs comfortingly into the ( _wet from the blood of that Jaqat, wet from Lance’s blood, wet from the quintessence)_ skin there, “Hey, hey, look at me, it’s going to be okay.” Throwing caution into the wind, he presses a comforting kiss on Keith’s right palm, minutely surprised that the man even allowed it, “It’s going to be okay.” His lips sizzle at the touch of quintessence, however diluted.

“Okay…?” Whispers Keith, eyes still locked on his claws, “ _Okay?_ ” He snaps, “How is _this_ oka-”A sudden movement to his left cuts him off and sparks him into action. He snarls and twirls, throwing his body over Lance’s in a show of protection. Lance flinches as Keith’s hands rip from his and the Galra’s shoulder catches him accidentally at the jaw.

Lance peers over Keith’s shoulder and spots nothing moving in the battlefield. He glances down and sees Keith’s tail, thrashing along the earth. Strange giddy affection slides through the palpable fear in Lance’s gut and he snorts, “Keith, it’s just your tail.”

Keith goes deathly still and Lance sucks in a sharp breath. Fuck, he should have been gentler with _that_ reveal. The larger man slowly turns his head towards him, still hovering cautiously over him, and glances down. Keith stiffens and Lance raises a calming hand, “Keith-”

“My _what?_ ”

The appendage in question twitches and Keith looks disgusted by it, his nose scrunching and his eyes widening in an acute terror. It shatters Lance’s heart to see it. “Keith, it’s not so bad, just a tail, maybe it’s a good thing-”

“A _good thing?!_ ” Hisses Keith, his golden irises snapping upwards and boring into Lance’s, “How could this possibly be a _good thing,_ Lance?!”

Lance chuckles nervously, trying his hardest not to cower away when the tail rubs against his ribs, “It’ll help with balance? Is it prehensile?”

“Pre-what now?”

“Y’know, it can grab things?”

Keith looks back down at his tail and frowns, “It...I don’t want to really try to move it!”

“You’re gonna have to sometime, buddy.” Answers Lance as gently as he can.

His friend glares at him before scoffing, “We need to get out of here. You’re hurt.”

“It’s not so bad,” Lance attempts to appease the protective anger in Keith’s body language, “I just fell in some glass, I’ll be fine.” He reaches up and wipes at the drying blood on his cheekbone, trying to look a bit more presentable. “I wanna know how _you’re_ not still hurt.”

Completely ignoring Lance’s inquiry, Keith repeats, “You’re _hurt._ ” but his tone is strange this time. His eyes have gone narrow and dark, the bright yellow deepening into a dirtied butterscotch. His nostrils flare as he sniffs at the air and he presses in closer to Lance, practically in his lap now. Lance leans back, only able to go so far, and eyes his friend warily. “...hurt….” Keith mumbles, the word cut and awkward as if Keith forgot how to say it.

Lance swallows, nervousness teetering on fear doing the boogie on his stomach. He’ll later deny the girlish squeal that escaped him when Keith abruptly grabs his chin, pulling him closer still (it’ll be a claim that Keith will be delighted to prove unfounded). Keith stares at the cut and burn on Lance’s cheek as if looks could kill, and, without rhyme or reason to Lance, leans in to _lick_ a long, wet stripe across both.

The blue paladin gasps loudly, eyes blowing wide with shock and cheeks reddening underneath the attention. Keith licks the wounds again, his tongue oddly rough and honestly quite uncomfortable against the raw injuries. “Ke-Keith, what the actual _fuck?_ ”

Keith answers only with a low rumble, as if he is trying to calm Lance, and ducks his head to lap at a tiny cut on the side of Lance’s neck. Lance’s spine seizes up and he thoughtlessly grabs at Keith’s arms, the feeling going hot and zapping like a bolt of lightning into his abdomen. He wants to snap his legs shut but Keith’s body in between them keeps it from happening, so he feels vulnerability. _Oh fuck, he’s practically naked, somebody help me-_

Inanely, Keith’s ‘last’ words come to mind.

“ _Lance, I love you._ ”

A dark, rudy blush colors Lance’s entire face and spreads down his neck. He begins to push at Keith, “Keith! Stop it, we don’t have time for this!”

The rumble morphs into a displeased growl but, funnily enough, Lance doesn’t feel too threatened by it. Keith pulls back and scowls down at Lance, obviously irritated. That’s when Lance sees it; the lack of humanity in those dark eyes. His heart jumps, and not in the good way, as he frowns anxiously, “We-we need to get the hell out of here. We need to get to our Lions. The others are in danger.”

Keith’s expression goes cloudy and he sits back on his heels, giving Lance breathing room and releasing his chin. He struggles to pull together a sentence, “I-I’m...sorry, Lance...I-I-I don’t know what’s happening-”

Seeing his friend's difficulty speaking, Lance quickly intervenes, "It's okay, alright? We'll get through this. We just need to get to our Lions, pronto. That Jaqat said they contacted the Galra."

Keith's eyes snap to his and his tail thumps loudly against the ground in agitation, "What?! We need to go!" His transformation in whatever monster he's become can wait, all that matters is getting to his friends and making sure they're safe. Keith shoots to his feet, reaching down and seizing Lance's upper arm as he does so. He tries to ignore the rush of anxiety within at the thought of the others seeing him like this. Allura won't be happy, that's for damn sure, he glumly thinks.

Lance flashes Keith a sad look, picking up on the insecurities. He simply mutters as Keith hauls him to his feet, grabbing his bayard as he does so, "It'll be-" He cuts himself off, face pulling into a excruciated grimace. His lower back screams in burning agony, the wounds there a bit deeper than he first thought. Standing jostles them, reminds him of their very prominent presence.

Keith makes a soft noise, almost like a sympathetic whimper, something decidedly not human. He refuses to release Lance's arm, his hand slipping down wrap tightly around his wrist. To Lance's relief, his friend is cautious of the cuts and scrapes that have damaged the gloves of his flight suit, choosing to lock onto a covered area of skin. "Sorry." He grunts, standing so close that Lance can see the beads of sweat, blood, and quintessence rolling down his pectorals.

Lance has to crane his head to look into Keith's face now, and the thought both irritates and excites him. He's six feet tall, damn it! How massive did Keith get?! They're going to break out the measuring tape later, Lance has got to know. "It's fine." He bites, "Let's get out of here."

Even with a damaged lower back, Lance is able to sprint without much difficulty. It hurts like a bitch, of course, but he isn't about to whine about it. Not with Keith looking as he does. Speaking of...how is he not still injured? Lance glances at the man leading him, eyeing his ribs and arms. Not even a single bruise on that pretty violet skin. He frowns. Did the quintessence do that?

Making the rash decision, Lance digs his heels into the ground, jerking on Keith's hold, "Wait! Hang on-"

Keith stops and releases his wrist, one eyebrow raised curiously and lips pulled into an irritated scowl. It's a cute expression on his purple face. "What? We don't have time for this!"

At least his shitty attitude is the same. Lance can't help but think adoringly. He holds up one finger and rushes towards the nearest shelf, hesitating for only a moment before grabbing a small vial of glowing raw quintessence. It has a surprisingly Earthesque cork top keeping the contents locked inside. The quintessence inside has already been manufactured into a solid state for drug use, the liquid trapped in little capsules for easy swallowing. Their mauve coloring signifies corruption and Lance is cautious as he stashes the vial in his jacket pocket.

Along the way back to Keith’s side, he also spies a familiar glint on the floor. The red bayard! He hurries over and snatches it up, putting it in his holster and holding his own bayard in hand. Keith’s holster was lost in his transformation.

When he returns to his friend, the other is staring at him, "Why did you grab one?!" He latches onto Lance's wrist again, tugging him close.

Lance's cheeks heat at the brush of fingers at the base of his palm as he wills his heart to stop jumping like that, "We need to show it to Allura and Coran, maybe they can find out what they're doing to the raw quintessence."

Keith just quirks a hesitant nod, not too pleased to be carrying such a dangerous item with them, before tugging Lance along once more, "C'mon, we can't go back the way we came so we need to be quick."

Terror seizes Lance's mind, thoughts racing back to that monster of a Jaqat, "Wh-what if we run into more of them? There's no way these guys were the only guards in this place."

"Then I'll take care of them." Growls Keith, tone promising that their deaths would not be painless.

At that, Lance glances up at Keith, inspecting the sharp planes of his familiar face as they rush out of the room. Anger drags like sharp hooks at his skin, morphing his scowl into one more furious and brooding than usual. Those golden eyes are alight with something that Lance can't name, something that isn't entirely human anymore.

Lance swallows nervously and tears his wandering gaze away, unsure of how much of himself his friend still retained as he recognizes the bloodlust there.

 

* * *

 

 

To say that Keith feels _different_ would be the understatement of the fucking century.

What startles him most, other than the obvious physiological changes rendered upon him, is the clarity. It’s like he’s been living his whole life in standard definition, hampered by static and poor connection. The wires got crossed and tangled where they shouldn't have and now the cable guy came on in a reset the whole system. Jacks go in their proper outlets, HDMI ports are locked in, the family’s upgraded to that expensive bullshit premium service. You know, the total rip off stuff that comes with three routers and unlimited data.

He can see _everything._

The small particles of dust hanging in the air, clinging to his mouth every time he takes a breath; the splatters of dark blood across the ground that would have been camouflaged by the dim lighting of the room; the slightest of further reddening in Lance’s already flushed cheeks….

Not only that, he can smell just about everything his surroundings have to offer, as well. Metallic sharpness, like a stagnant acid in his nostrils, and the odd no-scent (he couldn’t even describe it to you if he tried) of the quintessence are in ever blatancy. He can’t block them out but he finds, as he rushes Lance along, that he can pick and choose which ones he focuses on. Right now his senses are full of his partner, the only scent that he can bear paying attention to. He didn’t realize before, but below the naturally gross B.O. smell all men have, there’s a whiff of salty spice to Lance that is entirely _too_ delightful. Keith was surprised by it when he first really noticed it. He’s a young man, he can be a bit creepy sometimes, so he _has_ taken the liberty of sniffing a few articles of Lance’s clothing (not underwear, Keith isn’t a psycho!) when the other man wasn’t looking. He would’ve known about this addictive smell long ago. It must come from somewhere deeper that Keith’s inferior human senses couldn’t pick up on before.

That’s another thing. He can’t stop thinking about Lance.

As ridiculous as it is, given their current fatal situation, his foggy mind remains stubbornly fixed on its object of affection. At the very least, it’s somewhat on tangent. _Protect Lance, escape with Lance, hide Lance, heal Lance-_

His train of thought fits their dilemma but he’s sure he’d never hear the end of it if Lance found out he’s spacing so hard in _enemy territory._

He doesn’t understand it. Sure, he sometimes has a hard time paying attention because he’s too busy daydreaming of Lance to bother, but that’s always during _meetings_ or _eating._ Not life or death situations! He’s never had a problem with pushing away any and all other thoughts not pertaining to his mission before. It’s confusing and downright pathetic, his distracted pinning.

And what was up with the licking thing?!

Why would he do that?!

Keith feels the sudden urge to keel over and die.

Luckily the two only meet three unlucky smaller Jaqat on the main floor of the warehouse. Keith makes quick work of them, not giving Lance the time to so much as transform his bayard before he’s finished. The Galra drops the limp body of a Jaqat, having snapped its thick neck easily with his newly found strength, and grunts, “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Lance nods slowly, eyeing the twisted bone and sinew in disgust, before averting his gaze and moving quickly around them. He doesn’t look back at Keith. It infuriates him and without thinking, Keith releases a low growling noise, catching up with Lance and seizing his wrist once more as he does so.

“Don’t leave my side.” Chides Keith, irises glinting, “You could get hurt.”

Lance winces at the grip, more out of queasiness than pain, “Don’t grab me, you have blood all over your hands, dude.”

Keith begrudgingly allows Lance freedom, glaring down at his bloodied palms before wiping them unceremoniously on his tattered pants. He looks back up at Lance, whose nose is scrunched in disapproval, “Happy now? No blood.” He shows off his hands like a child to their mother, his skin going itchy with antiness to get back to touching Lance.

Why is he acting like this? Whatever that quintessence did to him, it also took his love for Lance and increased it _ten-fold_ in the clinginess department. It sucks but Keith finds he can’t control himself.

He has to be touching Lance, has to have constant reassurance that he’s alive. He almost whines desperately as Lance hesitates, and _does_ sigh heavily in relief as he finally gives in.

“I get it, all of this is...” Lance bites his lip. Keith loves it. “...not good. I’m right here, buddy, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

A swell of affection, thick and choking, swirls into a heavy ball in Keith’s throat. He threads his fingers through Lance’s and tugs him along, “Thank you.” He means it.

Keith hurries towards a side door in the large, open storage area. Unexpectedly, he feels pulling on his hold on Lance again. He would find it cute how little the tugs affected him if he wasn’t so damn irritated by Lance’s apparent _death wish._ “We need to go-” He starts but is cut off but Lance speaking over him.

“Look, coats!” Exclaims Lance while pointing at a wall of hooks beside the door.

“And?!”

“ _Aaaaaand_ what do you think is going to be the reaction to a blood splattered, half-naked Galra running around in the middle of the damn night down Main Street?! We need to cover you or something before we go out there!” Lance explains, already pulling away and searching through Jaqat clothing for an adequate size.

Keith admits that Lance has a fair point but did he have to stop holding his hand? He is ansty as he waits, fighting the urge to cover the distance between them and draw Lance in close again. _What is wrong with me?_ He chalks it up to the new changes to his body. Maybe his subconscious is drawing him towards Lance as a grab for security? For something familiar to ground him? He tries to clear his mind and keep it from thinking too deep on his current state. They can surely find a way to change him back, right? This can’t be a _permanent_ thing. He holds onto the delusion of hope for as long as he can.

If he didn’t, he might go insane before they could even get back to the castle.

Lance is returning to him so he snaps out of his contemplative silence, shooting a grimace towards the ratty overcoat the sharpshooter has discovered. His friend rolls his eyes skywards at the look, “Like you’ve ever been the one with the good fashion taste. Just put it on, it has a hood and everything.”

A hood is a good idea. It can hide his large ears and general _purpleness._ He lets Lance help him into the coat, wincing at the strange feeling of alien cloth. It’s kind of like rubber and satin combined, a weird sensation indeed. Lance gives him a quick pat on the back as he pulls away, watching as Keith throws the hood over his head, “This’ll work for now. Your Blade outfit should still conform to fit you, right?”

Keith nods, “Yeah.” Galra go through random growth spurts all the time, they had to find a way to keep up with it and not spend an arm and leg on new uniforms. Kolivan is a surprisingly good spender.

“Okay.” Lance takes a deep breath, “Let’s do this. Just, be casual, y’know?” He attempts to smile but Keith can see the stress setting deep into the micro wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. “We can do casual.”

The Galra snorts and holds out his hand to Lance once more, this time being careful not to startle his human companion ( _and what a weird thought it is, calling Lance_ human _as if Keith never was-)_ with his brusque behavior. Lance is wary yet begrudgingly content with the quote-end-quote cleanliness of Keith’s hands, slipping his hand and intertwining their fingers. Keith goes warm and fuzzy all over, an emotion annoying to feel in the middle of a danger zone, and tightens his grip until their palms press seamlessly together.

Lance glances down at their conjoined hands before scurrying to look anywhere else, “Y-your hand is really...big, now.”

Keith isn’t sure what to say to that so he doesn’t say anything at all, occupied by a flurry of nervousness inside. Lance bites his bottom lip again and curses softly, obviously embarrassed by his words. Keith doesn’t think he should be, he likes that Lance has noticed and isn’t running away in sheer terror.

 _I really don’t deserve him,_ ponders Keith, _I really don’t deserve his compassion._

He frowns.

_I’m a monster now._

Lance gives a little pull on Keith’s hand, making an attempt to drag him through the door, “Let’s go! Remember! Be casual!”

Keith follows Lance’s lead and the two rush through the door, into Eruk’s dark night.   


.

.

.

.

Lance is pleased to find that, even with his cut face and bloodied clothes, not many tourists or citizens want to pay them any mind as they rush through the crowded streets of downtown Eruk. Like before, everyone is too occupied in their own little worlds, all too eager to ignore anything out of place in favor of the plethora of casinos and clubs that dot the main strip. Lance doesn’t blame them; Eruk is known for its fun destinations, why else would they be here if not to party? He would join them, if not for more pressing matters.

Speaking of one of these _matters,_ Lance glances Keith’s way, observing the other sniffing at his hood. Keith’s nose scrunches adorably at whatever he smells there, golden eyes narrowing before flicking over to Lance’s. The paladin’s heart gives a scary jump and he rips his gaze away, almost running straight into an intoxicated alien. He yelps and jerks back, floundering for an apology, “I-I’m sorry.”

The alien’s drooping pink eyes drag up and down Lance’s body, a messy grin parting its mawl of sharp teeth. It raises a six-fingered hand and rests it on Lance’s chest, narrowly avoiding a drying blood stain, “He...yy, there, _handsome-_ ” It slurs drunkenly, pressing its large bust forward and making them very prominent. Even with the breasts, Lance isn’t 100% sure if the alien can be considered female.

Lance chuckles nervously, not having a free hand to brush of its touch, “Uh, sorry about running into you, but I gotta go-”

“You’re so _lovely,_ come dance with me…!”

“I really shouldn’t-”

The conversation is abruptly ended by Keith forcefully dragging Lance behind his bulk, a snarling warning building from deep within his abdomen. Lance is flabbergasted as Keith bares his vicious fangs in the alien’s face, leaning down to loom as threateningly as possible.

The alien’s yellow skin goes white in what Lance assumes is total fear, horror making quick work for sobriety. It flinches away, not so much as _glancing_ Lance’s way, “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were taken- I’m going to-” It gestures off somewhere before fleeing as quickly as its long legs can carry it, uncaring as it shoves passerby out of the way in its haste to escape Keith’s frightening demeanor.

Lance stares after the alien in shock until his brain boots back up and realizes what just happened. He can’t help his face warming and his insides squirming at the rather protective (and dare he say _possessive)_ action Keith just took, but he tries at anger anyways, “You didn’t have to scare them like that!” He scolds Keith, punching the other’s arm so hard he hurts his own fingers.

Keith just looks at him like he’s slow, “They were coming on to you.” He answers simply, as if it justified his shitty behavior. Regardless of how careless his voice sounds, however, Lance can see his apprehension in how he fidgets with his hood and coat.

“Sure, but you didn’t need to be a colossal dickhead!” Exclaims Lance. At Keith’s sad, kicked dog look, he sighs, “Whatever. We’re going to talk about this later but we’ve got bigger fish to fry than your bad attitude.”

The Galra nods in agreement, seeming pleased that Lance decided to drop the subject for now. Emphasis on _for now,_ you’re not out of the woods yet, mister! The two continue their trek back towards where they first entered Eruk, Lance being especially careful this time not to bump into any innocent pedestrians and sic an angry Galra after them.

However, when they get near the initial opening to Eruk, they notice that it’s a lot more crowded than it first was. They halt at the edge of the crowd, unwilling to force their way in and draw unnecessary attention. Lance is pretty tall as far as human standard go but he can hardly see over the heads in the crowd. He frowns at Keith, “Do you see anything?”

Keith is gritting his teeth, “There’s cops blocking the road. A lot of them.”

Lance blanches and turns to tap the shoulder of the alien closest to them. The alien looks down at him, a disgruntled expression on his face. Smiling politely, Lance questions, “What’s going on?”

The alien scowls, “They’ve put the whole place on lockdown, no one can get the-” the Lions have a hard time translating whatever obscenity the alien just used, so it sounds like it just made a odd wet sound, “-out of here! They’re saying something about some dangerous terrorists running around. Seems stupid to me, trapping us all in here like this with terrorists on the loose.”

_Terrorists? They’re not talking about us, are they?_

Lance nods shakily and thanks the alien, allowing it to go back to muttering angrily to itself. He peers up at Keith as he pulls him away from the crowd. He tugs Keith down and stands up on his tippy toes, meaning to whisper in Keith’s big fuzzy ear. Keith goes down easy, curiosity piqued. His ear twitches cutely as warm breath hits it, and Lance thinks its painfully charming, “We have to sneak around it. There’s no way this doesn’t have something to do with us. Remember what Gych said? There’s moles in the government. I wouldn’t be surprised if the police were corrupt, too. We’re most likely the terrorists they’re telling people about.”

Keith huffs in agreement, “This is turning more and more into a noir drama, huh?”

Lance can’t stop his bubbly chuckle, thankful for Keith’s awkward humor to distract him from the bubbling panic inside, “Yeah, next thing you know you’ll be in a stripped pantsuit with a Tommy gun.”

“You’re the sharpshooter, not me. I’ll just whack ‘em for ya.”

Lance laughs again, an obnoxious full bellied thing that he quickly quiets to avoid garnering stares. He lowers back onto his feet, his grin sharpening into something dangerous and smug that makes Keith’s blood pump a bit faster, “Ready to show them your mad ninja skills?” The ‘z’ at the end of ‘skills’ is heavily implied by his tone.

“So long as you never say those words again.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Well. This is...”

“Bad?”

“Hm. Very.”

 _Bad_ is a bit of an understatement, in Lance’s humble opinion but he’ll take it. They managed to sneak faultlessly around the blockade and down a few blocks to a darker series of buildings, emerging from an alley to attempt to hurry to the road they first arrived at. Their efforts are halted, however, by the presence of a little _bump in the road._ He reaches out to tap at the smooth surface of the force field, the shield having the appearance of thick glass. Keith slaps his stretched hand, shooting him a bewildered look, “Don’t just _touch_ it, what if it’s electrified?”

Lance smiles sheepishly, “Didn’t think of that.”

Keith huffs an annoyed breath before his face hardens over, “Think it covers the whole city?” he asks.

“Most likely. I don’t think walking the perimeter of it is the smartest idea to check, though.”

The two share a dismayed look and Lance groans out loud, slapping his hands over his face, “Damn, they really thought of everything, huh?”

“I don’t understand how quickly they found out about our survival.” Ponders Keith, his thick brows furrowing into an angry wrinkle, “A guard must have escaped us, or there were cameras or something.”

 _Escaped us._ Lance holds back his uncomfortable shiver at those words, not wanting to worry Keith. Did he really have to word it that way? They aren’t _killers,_ they’re _defenders._ Paladins. They were just doing what they had to do to survive. Saying ‘escaped’ makes Lance think of them tracking Jaqat down with the sole purpose of murdering them. It scares him.

He shakes off his doubts and shrugs, “What can we do about it now? We need to find shelter, they’re going to be searching for us and we’re like fish in a barrel right now.”

They move away from the force field and to an alcove of a nearby building, taking refuge underneath a strangely decorated awning. They stand so close their feet touch but either hardly notice. Lance lets Keith take his hand again, momentarily wondering why Keith has become so tactile all of the sudden before filing it away for later. Now’s not the time to make fun of Keith for being clingy.

 _And don’t act like you don’t like it._ His totally useless dumb hormone brain supplies. He’s quick to shut it up with cold, hard facts, _we are literally going to die probably, shut up!_

“Who’s going to let us in? We don’t know who we can trust, the gangsters and native population look the same. And we don’t have any money.” Informs Keith, looking troubled.

“I don’t-”

His words are cut off as Lance is rudely shoved into the wall by Keith’s broad chest, his entire body effectively hidden behind Keith’s. He curses softly at the pain of his wounds flaring up once more at the jostling action and glares up at his friend, “What the hell was that for?” He hisses.

Keith doesn’t answer, ear twitching erratically and a low snarl building on his lips. Lance goes still, recognizing the look of protective anger on his face as he faces an adjacent alleyway. His eyes flash a distinct golden hue and his long fangs glint in the low light of the nearby strip. Lance is thankful he isn’t the target of his irritation.

“Come out! I can see you!” Barks Keith, a deep growl lacing his words and rumbling in his chest. It vibrates through Lance’s jaw which has subsequently been thrusted into Keith’s chest.

Lance tries to peer over Keith’s shoulder but the Galra pushes him back down again, intent on completely covering him. It both annoys and pleases the Blue Paladin.

“Please,” a familiar voice calls out to them from the shadows, “I mean you no harm, paladins.”

Gasping, Lance takes advantage of Keith’s momentary distraction to slip to the side, setting his eyes upon the opening of the alleyway and the recognizable Jaqat there. Keith doesn’t let him get very far, latching on to his waist with one long arm to keep him tight to his side. Lance grunts and ignores it.

“Gych!” Exclaims Lance, surprise evident in his voice, “I thought you ran off to protect your mission?”

The Jaqat spy nods, a frown set on their reptilian features, “Yes, but things have not gone to plan, obviously. What was supposed to be only a recon mission has turned into a fight for your lives.”

Lance’s cheeks go red with embarrassment, “Yeah, we’re sorry about that.”

“Not as sorry as I am. The police force has shown their true colors, in the pockets of gangsters. Wanted posters will flood the streets in mere hours, and your faces will be plastered on every wall in the city. It will be impossible for you to escape publically at that point. Not with your lives.”

Both paladins flinch, the weight of their dire situation growing heavier than ever. Gych continues, ignoring their twin expressions of fear.

“This is why I have tracked you two down. Please, come with me, my colleagues and I have set up a safe house for you to remain in until we can safely evacuate you.”

Lance smiles in relief but Keith only tightens his grip, a distrustful gleam in his eyes and a sour frown on his mouth, “Your government and police force are obviously corrupted. How can we trust you?”

Gych watches them expressionlessly, their tin, lipless mouth still and their large wings pressed tightly to their back. They cock their bald head and quizzically ask, “How can _I_ trust _you,_ is the better question. You failed your mission miserably, you have been transformed into the very enemy we fight-”

Keith flinches and Lance glowers.

“-and your Blue Paladin suffers from multiple wounds that will surely be infected soon, if the sour scent of them is anything to go off of.” Gych’s bright green eyes seem to glow furiously in the darkness of the alley, “You have proven to be more than incompetent. I am offering you salvation. Take it, or be left to die at the hands of scorned Jaqat.”

 _Damn,_ Lance thinks glumly, _they really tore into us._ He looks up at Keith, “Buddy, we have to go with them. We don’t have a choice.”

All Keith can focus on are Gych’s words, _wounds that will surely be infected soon._ He grits his teeth and curses softly to himself, “Fine. But even _one_ slip up, give me even one good reason to think you’ll hurt Lance, and I’ll massacre every last one of you.”

Lance startles and stares incredulously at his friend, “Keith!” he attempts to chide but the man doesn’t pay him any mind, his focus too heavy on the Jaqat.

Gych nods, a solemn and steady tone to his voice, “I swear to you, paladin, no harm will come to your mate.”

Lance goes stiff, eyes flying wide with disbelief, “Wait, what-”

“Let’s go, Lance.” Says Keith as he begins to drag the other towards the Jaqat.

“Wait, what did you mean by _mate?_ ” Questions Lance but it falls on deaf ears, much to his frustration, “Gych!”

“The safehouse is not far from here. Stay low and move only where and when I do.” Gych ignores him by saying, gesturing for them to follow him deeper into the alley.

Lance scowls at the creature’s large back before pulling away from Keith to hold onto his hand instead, that little word bouncing around his head. As they hurry after the Jaqat, Lance wonders, _does he remember what he said to me? Does he remember he told me he loves me?_

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally I fucking updated this. This took me forever and it's only 6k. Pathetic. Before the summer started I could pump out 12k chapters in two days flat. I work constantly and that just really puts a damper on my writing spirit.  
> Once I return to college, it should let up a bit. I could write a lot more often there because I don't work a full time job haha I'm a good student, so I finish my work very quickly and efficiently, leaving me with plenty of down time to write!  
> Thanks for reading!  
> Warning for next chapter, things are gonna get pretty steamy pretty quick between Keith and Lance...  
> Also, **QUESTION!** Plz answer in comments: would you like to see a mating cycles/in heat trope in this fic? Or is that too overused?  
>  Bc obvi there's gonna be smut in this haha but like, I like to build UP to smut? And I don't want this fic to be super long. So, a good plot device to use would be the heat thing.  
> Tell me what you think! I love getting ideas from people :)


	4. Friend.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"So if I run it's not enough_  
>  _You're still in my head forever stuck."_  
>  \- Maroon 5, _Animals_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **CHAPTER WARNINGS: nudity, violence, sensuality.**

 

By the time the remaining paladins reach the last known location of their comrades, a small unit of Jaqat soldiers are already attempting to break through the barriers the Red and Blue Lions have barricaded themselves within. Their feats are proving less successful than originally predicted, with each blow wrought upon the glowing surfaces glinting off as harmless as cotton balls. The eyes of the Lions flash bright gold in response to the arrival of their brethren and the paladins experience the mechas’ worried panic through their shared bond.

They’re worried about their pilots, especially so for Red. He oozes a terrified sort of uneasiness, an emotion that makes Hunk gasp into his mic. Usually they can’t feel the raw emotions of another paladin’s Lion to this extent, just some faint nudges and playful growls here and there. The terror infects them like a deeply setting virus and even Allura begins to lose her composure.

“Quickly, paladins! Do not allow them to touch Red or Blue!” She barks into her comm, as if she even really needs to order them to do so. They’re already bursting into action, Pidge swooping down first and causing the Jaqat to scatter like rats from the beastly machine.

The Jaqat are known for their sophisticated weaponry and impressive military science, but the blasts and bombs do little to scare off Voltron. Hunk slams the durable shoulder of Yellow into the earth, making it explode in a landslide of rocks and debris. If a Jaqat or two are lost to the impact, Hunk doesn’t pay them much mind.

Shiro maneuvers Black to stand protectively in front of Red and Blue, an older sister guarding her foolish siblings, and an angry roar erupts from her metal guts. It tears into the vulnerable ears of the Jaqat soldiers and they give cries of their own, infant screams in the wake of a goliath. The sound corrals the last of the Jaqat, those who had yet to flee the Lions, into an instinctive huddled pack. 

Hunk and Pidge land their Lions in a manner of caging their prisoners in, their weapons locked on to the quivering aliens below and allowing no escape. The head of the pack, a massive Jaqat who looks to be their commanding officer by the shiney golden stripe painted on their bald head, stands tall at the front. The Jaqat are proud and fierce. Allura is the one who exits the Black Lion first, her jaw equally as set and her back just as straight. 

She eyes the Jaqat commander darkly, her eyes chips of ice fraught with righteous fury as she approaches with ease befitting of a princess. The Jaqat commander raises a fist to signal their subordinates to stay put, realizing very well that if they tried to harm her they would be destroyed in an instant. They glance up at the vicious mawl of the Black Lion before gazing stoically back at Allura.

Shiro watches like a hawk from within the cockpit, as do Hunk and Pidge, each paladin ready to leap to their princess’ defense at a moment’s notice. Like Black, he is very vigilant of his teammates, his  _ family. _

Allura speaks first, “I am Princess Allura of the Castle of Lions. What is the meaning of this betrayal?”

The Jaqat commander scoffs, a nasty look in their eye, “‘Betrayal?’” They mock, “The true Jaqat have done no such thing. You are in league with a tyrant.”

“And the Galra are much better? You prefer Zarkon to Kaiser Tymna?” Questions Allura, incredulously.

“They have supplied our people with  _ shelter,  _ and  _ protection.  _ What has that bitch-” at least, the humans think they said ‘bitch.’ The Lions had a hard time translating the obscenity, so really it could’ve been anything. “-done for this planet other than warp it into some parody of old? Experience Eruk, where they  _ gamble _ and  _ drink _ and  _ fornicate  _ with those foreigners _ ,  _ the testament to Kaiser Tymna’s reign. An ugly scar on the otherwise proud history of the Jaqat.”

Allura narrows her eyes, irritation sharp as her whip in her tone, “You are a fool! And you think the Galra won’t sully the Jaqat name? They will bleed your planet dry until there is nothing left! That is the price of their alliance!”

The Jaqat grimaces and sneers, “You speak like Tymna! They crush the traditional warrior spirit and allow it to be  _ infested _ with outsiders, with impure swine like you!”

Growling in frustration, knowing she is running out of precious time, Allura presses, “Enough of your fanaticism! When will the Galra arrive?! How do you release Eruk?!”

But the Jaqat commander is too beyond reason to answer her questions. They snarl dangerously at the Altean, made furious by her words and blinded by their own perverted patriotism.  _ “DEATH TO VOLTRON!”  _ They screech before the commander relinquishes their order of tentative cease fire. 

Instantly, the Jaqat soldiers launch themselves at the princess. Shiro yells into his mic for her to fall back, a useless order as she is already following through with it. Allura leaps to the side, easily evading the extended claws of her opponents. Knowing she is outnumbered and seeing the lazer guns pointed her way, she jumps back as Black’s heavy paw comes crashing down into the open space between her and them. It’s large enough to shield her as the other Lions open fire and decimate the threat to their princess as quickly as it’s posed. She curls into a tight ball behind the metal paw to protect herself from the powerful blasts behind her, only relinquishing her tight grip around her head when the vibrations slow.

Allura peeks around the side of the paw swiftly to check for any remaining Jaqat. The aliens lay defeated in the warped earth, blood oozing from their various wounds, and she feels a twinge of guilt before it’s smothered by acceptance. She must do whatever it takes to guard the Lions her father has left in her care.

That is also true of the Lions’ paladins. Her heart aches with worry for Lance and Keith, her dear friends whom she easily considers family by this point, as she moves into the clearing and gazes upwards into Black’s glowing eyes. Shiro greets her over the com with a relieved smile in his tone, and she can feel his eyes tracking down her body through Black’s screens in a respectful sweep for injuries. Once he finds nothing more than dirt clinging to her suit, he speaks solemnly, “Can you enter Blue, Allura?”

Allura frowns, “If she will have me.” She has piloted Blue in the past but as of late, with Keith’s return from the Blade of Marmora, she tends to stick to engaging castle defenses and offenses more than anything else. She approaches the Blue Lion with careful dignity, smiling prettily, as Lance does, up at the mecha, “We need to move you two to safety. Please allow me to pilot you, Blue.”

But Blue is stubborn. They can feel her worry for her paladin, grueling like a sickness in their guts, and her refusal to leave where he left her. She is determined that he will return to her. Red rests stoically beside her, his agitation only evident through their shared bond. 

Allura sighs and touches the force field, empathetic to Blue’s feelings but more concerned for their paladins, “Please! We must move you before the Galra arrive. I swear we will come back for Keith and Lance, we will not leave them behind!”

Red rumbles angrily in Allura’s mind but she can feel his acceptance. His shield disintegrates and the Lion sparks to life, his eyes glowing brighter than ever in the dimness as he climbs to all four paws. He releases a mighty roar rivaling that of Black’s and crouches at Blue’s side. Allura knows he refuses to leave without her.

Allura smiles in gratitude and turns to Blue, pressing through her Altean bond, a connection stronger than those of the human pilots, to reach her, “Please. We need to save him. But first we must get you to safety.”

Pidge opens her mic and speaks tentatively, unsure if her words would even register with another paladin’s Lion, “Lance is trying to get back to you, I know it. We need to make sure you’re safe for his return.”

A soft, sad huff sounds in each paladins’ mind and they wince at it. It’s the sound of a mother crying out for her wayward cub. Allura nods sympathetically, “I understand. Please?”

Finally, with another sad croon, Blue lowers her defenses and allows Allura to enter her awaiting mawl. The others watch as Allura boards Blue and telltale swing of the Lion’s head as Allura assumes control of her. Shiro grins as Allura opens her screen to them all, “Let’s get them back to the castle. Then we will return for Lance and Keith.”

“Yes, sir!” His team responds.

 

* * *

 

 

The safe house Gych and their comrades have set up for them is as discreet as they come. If you blinked while walking along one of the many back streets of Eruk, you’d miss it. The only way to know a separate building is even there is to cut down an alley alongside what seems to be an alien cannery, and find an unassuming door nestled between weirdly shaped dumpsters and sewage drains. The smell is terrible but Gych claims it will hide Lance’s odd human scent and Keith’s sour death stench. 

Lance winces at that but figures it must be true. Keith  _ did _ die after all, even if the quintessence technically brought him back. He’s kind of a zombie now! Lance would make a joke but even he knows that now is probably not the best of times to make light of Keith’s near death experiences. Maybe later, when they’re safe back on the ship and they’ve somehow discovered a cure for whatever altered Keith’s appearance.

Lance has to stifle a giggle when he catches Keith trying to secretly sniff himself in response to Gych’s bluntness. Keith turns and frowns at him, so Lance leans in and sticks his nose in Keith’s shoulder. He takes a deep breath in and shrugs, pulling back to smile comfortingly up at his friend, “Well my weak human nose doesn’t smell anything, so we’re alright. But we can get you some perfume if it’ll make you feel better.”

“No perfume.” Comments Gych as they approach the safe house’s encrypted door, “It will be too easy to track, and difficult to wash off in a hurry.”

Rolling his eyes at Gych’s literal interpretation of his joke, Lance’s smile pulls into a gleeful smirk. Keith nudges him with his elbow to get him to quit it, but at least the tenseness in his face is easing. Lance is glad to see some humor in those hard yellow eyes.

Keith has been latched onto him closer than white on rice the entire walk to the safehouse, each noise in the night startling him into tugging Lance into him in response. Lance would love the fierce protectiveness of his crush had he not had to  _ walk, _ because clearly a two meter tall (with some change, Jesus Keith’s huge) alien sticking to your side is going to hinder things a bit. Honestly, it’s pretty worrisome. Lance spent half the trip scared that Keith would try to attack Gych whenever they so much as spoke to Lance, if his deathly glares and low growls were anything to go off of.

When they arrive at the door of the safehouse it slides open to reveal a Hunter type of Jaqat, as large as Keith and twice as broad. They nod their head at Gych and the two grab each other’s forearms in greeting. They release and Gych turns to the paladins, “This is Maxyn, they will be guarding you during your stay.”

Maxyn bows their head to them, their voice holding far more emotion than Gych’s. Their tone is politely happy, a professional trying to lighten the obviously dreadful mood, “How do you do, paladins? It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance!” Their bright maroon eyes shine with a friendly warmth, matching the kind smile on their reptilian mouth. They might be huge and muscular, but Lance finds them kinda cute.

“‘Ssup, Maxy.” Lance chirps, excited to not be surrounded with doom and gloom, “I’m Lance, this big fur ball is Keith.” He thrusts his thumb into Keith’s pectoral, jerking it back when he only manages to hurt his own limb.

Keith is as distrustful as ever, simply eyeballing Maxyn and frowning warily.

Maxyn ignores Keith’s behavior and focuses their grin on Lance, “Maxy? Oh! Yes, you humans do like to give out nicknames.”

Lance is curious, “Have you met humans before?”

“Once or twice, neither nearly as pleasant at first as you, I am afraid.” Maxyn chuckles, a surprisingly soft noise giving the sharpness of their beastly features. Lance likes their laugh; it sounds a lot different from the cruel booming bass of the Jaqat he fought in the warehouse.

Keith fidgets beside him, displeased by their lengthy conversation. Lance holds back an annoyed groan. He’s going to have to talk to him about all this. Surely Keith will be embarrassed by how he’s acting once they stop whatever it is that’s messing with his head and making him act like this. Lance likes the idea of Keith staying clingy like this forever, but he knows that just isn’t  _ Keith.  _ It must be the Galra in him doing all this. Now if Lance could only figure out  _ why. _

Gych is also perturbed by their ongoing chit-chat. Their feathers quiver anxiously and he hisses, “Enough idling, get inside, make haste.”

Maxyn flashes Lance a humored smile, one that Lance shares, and moves to the side to allow the two inside. At the threshold, however, Keith hesitates, forcing Lance to halt beside him. His body is stuck in between Keith’s and the doorway, with Keith in the way of both Jaqat. He scowls at them, “Just  _ one _ reason, Gych.”

“Keith you’re being rude-”

But Gych takes no offense, only bowing his head and offering the smooth plume of his neck to show, “Neither I nor Maxyn mean harm to your mate. I swear upon my life, Red Paladin.”

Lance is silenced by that word again, a plethora of conflicting feelings shutting him up and rendering him a useless weight against the door jam. Keith stares at the aliens for a long, nerve-racking moment, and for a second Lance is afraid  _ that _ side of him will surface again. The one that couldn’t differentiate between friend and foe. The one that almost killed him.

Luckily for all parties involved, no such thing happens. Keith huffs and turns back to Lance, flattening his large hand on his back, careful of the wounds, and ushering him quickly inside.  _ Mate? MATE?! They  _ must  _ mean teammate….  _ Lance nibbles on his bottom lip as he enters a small parlor, trying to forget that word was even uttered as he takes in his surroundings.

There are three other doors along the walls of the room, all ajar and allowing Lance to peer inside. He doesn’t recognize any of the machinery, but he thinks the room on the far left is a bathroom? He is jostled as Keith moves them both further into the room so that the Jaqat can enter behind them. Maxyn closes and locks the door with a series of magnetic and electrical locking mechanisms, sealing them inside behind a fortified door. 

Gych stands like a tall shadow near the door, their head cocked to the right to avoid touching the ceiling. Maxyn isn’t nearly as tall as their comrade, but both them and Keith would touch if they stood on their tippy toes. Lance is the only one truly comfortable in the room, and he thinks that has been done on purpose.

_ It would be difficult for the bigger Jaqat to fight in such tight spaces. It wouldn’t be so bad for me.  _

Lance breaks away from Keith, much to the Galra’s chagrin, to walk further into the parlor. There are monitors lining the closest wall, each showing a different scene. The first one on the left shows directly outside the front door, the next shows the street outside the alley, and the last one is cut into four squares showcasing different cameras: in a bedroom, at the bottom of a set of stairs, the room Lance is pretty sure is a bathroom, and a dark corridor illuminated faintly by a far blue light in the distance. 

Frowning, Lance points at the bathroom screen, “Hey, is that y’all’s bathroom? Because on Earth it’s really fucked to have a camera in the bathroom.”

Maxyn approaches Lance and explains in a chipper voice, “That is where you defecate and cleanse yourself, paladin! We placed one in there purely for the small window that’s in there.”

“You don’t seriously think one of ya big ass Jaqat can get in there, do you?” 

“No, but toxic gas can. A small explosive can.”

Lance visibly pales at the thought, “Good point.”

Maxyn glances up at Keith and quickly says, “Of course, when you go in I will turn it off. No need to worry for your privacy, Lance.”

Blinking at their sudden uneasy tone, Lance looks behind him at his teammate to see the little asshole glaring  _ holes _ into Maxyn, a vicious sneer pulling his lips into something terrifying. Lance’s heart skips a beat and his mind blanks for a second before he remembers this is  _ Keith  _ he’s looking at, and he intervenes, “Thanks Maxy! No need to worry, right Keith?” He edges a warning into his words, shooting his own (weaker) glare Keith’s way.

Keith looks back at Lance, his expression falling into a much calmer one, “Right.” He grunts, “Where’s your first aid kit?”

Maxyn jumps into action, moving past them into another room. "In here," the Jaqat calls from within, "are some provisions for you, and a water heater." They reemerge holding a large white box, hurrying over to Lance and cautiously sniffing at the air around the paladin, "Ah yes, the smell of human blood is very different from Jaqat. The Red Paladin stinks of Jaqat blood so I hardly noticed! You must be in pain." They say sympathetically, a frown tugging at their flat lips.

Lance shrugs and immediately regrets the movement as it reminds him of the clothing that scratches and irritates his split skin. He holds out his right forearm, displaying the tattered remains of his communicator. Dark red cakes the bent metal but luckily the bleeding has stopped since the attack. Keith watches it warily as Lance states, "I'm more concerned about this device here. We need it to keep in contact with our friends. Keith lost his in the quintessence."

Keith nods, his voice small and ashamed, "It broke when I grew." He stares down at his own forearm as if he could see through the material of his stolen overcoat, a heavy look in his eye.

Maxyn takes a look at it, a troubled look on their face, "Gych, surely we can-"

"No. If we use an unprotected line of communication, our enemies might pinpoint it to our location." Gych says resolutely.

Lance's brows pull together, "Then gives us a protected line immediately. We have to report back to the Castle of Lions." He thumbs the broken communicator, "Allura and the others must be worried."

Keith shuffles his feet beside him at that, his expression pulling into something tight and angry. His tail swings in agitation behind him and he hisses, "You're hurt, Lance, let's just focus on this first."  _ And not Allura,  _ the Galra thinks greenly.

Turning incredulously to his friend, Lance argues, "Not so badly that I need immediate medical attention!"

"You heard Gych, you reek of possible infection! Who knows what sort of bacteria was on that floor, that's in your bloodstream by now!" Answer Keith in a low snarl, "We will tend your wounds now."

Lance scowls, trying to look brave even though talk of infection terrifies him. It's the fear of sickness and so not the way Keith looms over him that sways his opinion. "Fine." He mutters, facing Gych, "I need that line, Gych."

Gych nods, "I will deliver it to you as soon as possible, paladin."

Keith stalks forward and takes the first aid kit from Maxyn, dipping his head in quick reluctant thanks. At least he's getting a little better. He grunts and jerks his head towards the bedroom, "C'mon."

Lance's eyes widen, "Y-you're doing it?"

"Yeah...?" Keith says slowly, "I don't think they have the best knowledge on humans in general, especially not how to administer first aid. I've done this for you before!"

"Yeah, I know, it's just...." Lance squirms underneath Keith's confused stare, his cheeks heating at the scrutiny. His wounds...he has a lot of little cuts  _ everywhere _ . Especially on his lower back, a little too intimate for comfort. Lance can't even deal with the  _ thought  _ of Keith's hands touching him somewhere so... "I-I can do it just fine. And you're covered in filth right now."

Keith's nostrils flare in obvious irritation and he grits his teeth, "I'll wash my hands."

"Wash your  _ everything  _ first, mister!" Snaps Lance, his insides cringing at his pitiful bide for more time.

"We don't have time for you to argue, Lance!"

"Just go take a shower!"

"Why are you so stubborn?!"

"You're going to make my condition  _ worse!" _

Keith digs his forehead into the top of the box, a loud groan leaving him, "Fucking fine! I will take a fucking shower, you drama queen!"

Lance wants to cower at Keith's furious tone, knowing that he's just confused as to why Lance is so against this. Keith doesn't understand why he's being like this, Lance knows but he can't help insisting. 

Maxyn, who has stayed awkwardly silent throughout the ordeal, attempts a friendly smile at Keith, "Uh, Keith, I can show you how to use the cleansing station-"

"Please." Growls Keith, before he thrusts the kit into Lance's arms and trails after the Jaqat, his tail thrashing wildly in his wake.

“I also have a set of clothes that will fit you-”

“Thanks.”

Lance clutches the kit to his chest and chews on his bottom lip, trying to ignore the flaring pain in his arms and lower back. Keith was right, they really should get on bandaging his open injuries ASAP, but Lance wants to put off the inevitable awkwardness for as long as he can. Plus, he's not sure if he'll be able to handle  _ this  _ Keith touching him all over, not when it's only for medical purposes and nothing more.

_ "I love you, Lance." _ Lance jolts at the memory, eyes sliding up to focus on the bathroom door as Maxyn exits it and closes it. Did he mean, like,  _ love _ love? Or, like, familial love? Brotherly love? Platonic love?! The Blue Paladin tightens his grip on the kit as Maxyn approaches, trying for a grin but knowing it falls into nervousness. Yeah, a Keith with unknown feelings being all protective and possessive really isn't good for his heart right now.

"He is reluctantly cleaning himself as you requested, Lance. He was very adamant about you waiting for him to tend to your wounds." Maxyn reports happily, the humans' strange behavior not diminishing the politeness in the slightest. 

Gych speaks up then, their eyes locked on a small handheld device in their spindly hand, "I must go, paladin. I will return in a few rotations."

Lance startles at Gych’s sudden interruption and nods, “Be careful out there.” He warns the Jaqat.

Maxyn follows their comrade to the door, assisting in undoing the locks and wishing them a safe trip. Gych lingers in the doorway, and Lance watches as the two Jaqat stand very close to one another. Gych brushes the back of their hand across Maxyn's cheek, a soft action that gives Lance pause.  _ Oh? _ Maxyn returns the affection, their smile dropping into something real.

"Come back to me...." Maxyn whispers, closing their eyes and touching Gych's chest.

Gych nods, expression unchanging, before they cross the threshold into the alleyway, "Naturally." They respond, their tone far more gentle than Lance has heard so far.

Lance's heart clenches at the romantic sight and he turns away, feeling guilty for watching such a private, tender moment between the two. He starts towards the bedroom, figuring it best to wait there for Keith and leave the Jaqat alone. His physical pain is briefly ignored for the curiosity of finding out the sleeping habits of an alien species as he enters the room. Within is a large pallet on the ground covered with multiple thick duvets and a plethora of oddly shaped pillows. The pallet takes up nearly the entire room, but Lance supposes that makes sense with how large the Jaqat tend to be. 

He thinks back to the ceilings and how  _ earthly _ they are in comparison to the architecture he has seen so far in Eruk. No normal Jaqat would be able to reside comfortably in this house; it’s as if it were designed for something as small as Lance. Maybe it used to belong to foreigners? Species not of this planet? He files the information away and decides to focus on other things.

Like how’s there’s technically one bed.

_ C’mon, can this get any more cliche?  _

The Jaqat are obviously asexual so the whole bed sharing thing must not be a problem for them. It  _ shouldn’t _ be a problem for Lance, given the dire situation, and yet here he is- heart racing and face red as a fucking fire truck. He shakily sets the kit down at the edge of the thin mattress takes off his jacket and shirt, leaving himself in just the tight camouflage suit underneath. He also removes his gloves, flinching as the material drags over the various scrapes and bruises that dot his fingers. Looking at the ruined communicator, he wonders if he should take it off himself or wait for Keith to return. Keith will probably throw a hissy fit if he does anything on his own so he leaves it alone.

Maxyn knocks on the doorframe to the room and smiles gently at the human, “Are you hungry at all? As I said, there’s provisions in the other room.”

Lance returns the smile and shakes his head, “No...not now. Maybe later.”

The friendly Jaqat nods and leaves, going back to their station in the parlor. 

Alone once more, Lance opens the kit to occupy the time and to keep his mind from wandering off without the rest of him. Inside are the usual suspects, gauze and cleaning agents and rolls of bandage tape. There’s a scalpel and a pair of tweezers contained in sealed baggies near the bottom, alongside a bunch of other supplies that are a bit too advanced for his surface wounds. He takes out the tweezers, gauze, and peroxide, resting them on the bed beside the kit. 

Having gotten everything ready for Keith, he sits back on the balls of his feet and waits. How long is Keith going to take anyways? He was itching to get to work on Lance but has been in the shower for about fifteen minutes now. Lance’s brows furrow and he rises to his feet. It isn’t like Keith to relax in the shower, even when their lives aren’t under constant threat of danger.

_ He must be having issues with the system.  _ Lance ponders as he exits the bedroom and walks the short distance to the bathroom. Maxyn glances at him as he passes, a questioning look on his face. Lance shrugs, “I’m going to check on him.”

Maxyn hums in understanding before returning to their data pad.

Lance stands outside the door and knocks loud enough to be heard over the telltale rush of water within, “Keith, you alright? You’ve been in there a bit.” He suddenly feels nervous, like he’s overthinking it, so he stammers, “We-well not  _ really _ a bit, more like twenty or so, but still, uh- ya having trouble with the pipes?”

At no response warning bells begin to go off in his head. Images resurface of Keith’s frail body being dropped into the vat, memories of his choked scream at the tightening grip of the beast that held his thrashing form leap out at Lance from the shadows of his mind. His chest clenches in a panic and he knocks again, this time harder and more persistent, “Keith, c’mon, man, answer me at least!”

Still, no answer. Only the splashing of water in a basin and the splattering of droplets against a surface. Lance doesn’t think as he grabs the handle of the door, awkwardly fumbling with it until he discovers he has to shake it up and down to release it from its hitch. Weird ass alien doorknobs. He cracks open the door, sticking his hand in first and waving it as a way to warn Keith if his words weren’t enough.

“I’m coming in, please covered your dick.” Lance says as he pops his head into the steaming room. He is surprised by how similar a Jaqat bathroom is to one on Earth. The tile flooring and walls are the same off white most are back home, although there is no sink and what he thinks is the toilet is trough like bin leading into the wall and disappearing into a small hole. There’s no flushing mechanism. 

His target, however, is not the toilet but the ‘shower’ he finds in the corner of the room. It’s nothing more than four spouts sticking out of the wall in various directions and at different heights, each drenching the naked violet body below with strong steady streams of greenish water. Keith sits upon a raised platform, the water splashing off it and into the drains that line the sides of it, his head in big hands and his shoulders trembling from something other than the open air of the bathroom. He hasn’t seemed to have noticed Lance’s entrance.

Nervously, Lance calls to his friend, “Keith, are you okay?”

Keith gives a little jump, his shoulders flying up to his ears and his tail darting close to his body. He turns his head and Lance sees wetness in soft yellow eyes. He tries for anger but it falls flat in the heaviness, “Wh-what are you doing in here, Lance? I’m naked, get out!”

And Lance really should leave because uh,  _ yes Keith is very very naked and oh goodness Lance do not look down, I repeat, do not look down,  _ but he finds that the sorrow and terror in Keith’s gaze keep him rooted there. He enters the bathroom and closes the door behind him, nervousness a tightly wound elastic ball bouncing around his chest. The air is stiflingly hot, especially in the tight black suit, but he ignores it as he says, “I’m not looking, I swear.” He squeezes his eyes shut and his world is encased in darkness. He can hear the water hit Keith’s shoulders and the tiles, can hear Keith’s heavy breathing, and can hear the thunder of his own heart. “Are you okay? I-I know this is a lot-”

Keith cuts him off with a growl, and Lance hears his claws scrape the floor. He wonders if Keith’s standing up or if he’s still curled in on himself but doesn’t peek. “I didn’t realize,” Keith mutters just loud enough for Lance to catch, his voice bitter and angry, “just how much I changed until I looked down at myself. I was distracted. You distracted me from this.”

Lance realizes, belatedly, that whatever crisis Keith is experiencing now is because Lance pushed him into being alone too early. Guilt, his  _ selfishness, _ threatens to strangle him and he whispers, “I’m sorry….”

“No,” Keith says, “this isn’t your fault. It’s just- I-  _ fuck,  _ it’s bad.”

Those words scare him so Lance opens his eyes, only catching a glimpse of a broad purple chest standing tall beneath the spray before a startled snarl terrifies him into shutting them again.

_ “Don’t look at me!” _ Snaps Keith, his voice a frightening blend of beast and man before it dips and breaks into distraught, “Please, I don’t want you to see me like this.”

At the crack in Keith’s voice Lance knows he can’t take it anymore. He jerks forward, taking a few steps further into the room with his hands feeling in front of him even though he knows nothing will be in the way. He can practically feel Keith stiffen and the Galra hisses, “What are you doing?”

“I’m not afraid of you-” Lance almost trips on the edge of the shower platform, not realizing he had already crossed the distance between them. Two large hands, hot, wet points of contact on his shoulders, stop him from falling and steady him. They remain on his shoulders as if wary of letting go. Lance cocks his head upwards, hardly noticing the droplets of water that splash against his legs and face. He hopes his face is in line with Keith’s, “-you think I’ll be grossed out or something but I won’t!”

“Lance….”

“Keith! Of course I’m worried about how you look now but not because I think you’re disgusting or a freak or anything like that.” Insists Lance, tone bordering on desperate, “I’m worried because  _ you’re terrified. _ ”  _ And because whatever that quintessence did to you, it didn’t just stop at your body. _

It’s difficult to have this conversation blind. Lance wants to open his eyes but he respects Keith too much to do it. Keith’s hands tighten on his shoulders, “Of course I’m fucking terrified, I’m….” Lance feels Keith’s damp forehead press into his shoulder, wetting the fabric there. His voice is small and feeble as he murmurs, “I’m a  _ monster. _ ”

Lance doesn’t know why Gych said Keith smelled of death before. With his teammate’s unruly black mane tickling his nose, all Lance can smell is a comforting male musk and freshly washed skin. He lifts his hands and lightly touches Keith’s ribs, snuffing the delight inside at how the muscles there jump beneath his fingertips. His throat constricts at the hatred in Keith’s words, the hatred directed towards the beast he has become, and he shakes his head, “No, no, no, you aren’t a fucking monster, Keith. You may look it, but you aren’t anything like the Galra.”

Keith’s hands slip from his shoulders to the back of his neck, his thick fingers getting caught in loose strands of Lance’s dark hair. Lance shivers at the wet glide and his eyelids flutter, begging to open.

“How can I face the team like this?” Keith asks painfully, “How can I be a paladin of Voltron and look like  _ this? _ ”

“Do you really think Hunk and Pidge will toss you out? Do you think  _ Shiro  _ will? He loves you even more than we do, and that’s saying something.” Lance says in Keith’s big Galra ear, scrunching his nose when it twitched and bats against his face. It’s so fucking cute he can hardly contain his coos, “I know what you’re thinking. Allura and Coran, right?”

Keith hesitates and then gives a tiny nod.

“I’m going to be honest with you. They’re going to be angry at first. But remember when Allura first found out about your Galra heritage? She was mad for what, a day or two? And then you two made up. She trusts you more now, has been through  _ more _ with you. She’s grown up a lot and so have you. I think she’ll have some words, but she loves you. Coran is the nicest guy-erm, alien, we’ve ever met, so I wouldn’t be too caught up on him.”

Sniffing softly, Keith picks his head up from Lance’s shoulder. Something wet and odd and  _ hairy  _ suddenly grazes his thigh and Lance jumps, lowering his head and whipping it about without opening his eyes, “What was that? Keith that  _ better _ not be what I think it is.”

“What?” Keith squawks before exclaiming, “N-no! It’s my tail, dumbass!”

Lance puts his hands on his hips, his skin already missing the warmth of Keith’s, “Best be! You need to buy me a drink first!”

Keith sighs, “You’re ridiculous. We were having a moment.”

“And we still are!  _ You’re _ the one that’s making me keep my eyes shut, so excuse a guy for being jumpy.”

His friend is silent for a moment before he mutters something illegible under the sound of the water. Lance cocks his head, “What?”

“You can open your eyes.” He hears Keith swallow shallowly as he’s quick to add on, “I mean! There’s communal showers on the ship, it’s not as if we haven’t seen each other naked before. An-and we’re both guys, same parts and all….it’s a little stupid to make you close your eyes.”

Lance’s heart leaps in his chest. Yeah, he’s seen Keith naked before...from across a room with three other people inside! It’s hard to really get a good eyefull with Coran singing Altean blues and Hunk splashing cold water everywhere like a jackass. Throw in Shiro giving a talk on ‘proper shower etiquette’ and Keith’s usual two minute dips, and there’s really no time to appreciate communal showers. Not that Lance would stare at Keith without his permission anyways, consent is sexy, so really, Lance hasn’t seen too much of Keith’s nudity.

He wonders if Keith can say the same for him? The thought makes his ears go hot. Keith dragging his hot gaze up and down Lance’s bareness as the other washes himself of the day’s grime, unaware of the greedy lust standing only feet away...or better yet, Keith committing every inch of Lance’s skin to memory for recall later, in the dead of night, when he can’t sleep and restlessness holds him prisoner. 

_ Enough of that!  _ “Uh, right, okay, I’m opening them now. I, uh, won’t look down.” Lance promises as his eyelids flicker open, his vision distorted and blurry for a moment as he blinks away the spots in his eyes. The first things he sees are Keith’s huge violet arms bracketing his face, warm and wet. He follows their smooth, muscular path to his bunched shoulders at his chin, where Lance’s eyes naturally hop to his bright golden sclera. 

Keith’s hair is drenched to the root and sticking attractively to his face and neck, his big ears pressed into his head in defense against the onslaught of water. Towering over Lance as he can now, he stands so close that Lance catches the drops that bounce off his skin on his own. Keith’s fingers continue to play in his hair, the claws surprisingly gentle and careful of his soft human skin. They feel wonderful as they scratch at him, making a familiar buzz of pleasure rush down his spine. 

Even though Keith’s body has altered so much in the past few hours, his face remains the same, if you ignore the eyes, and the teeth, and the skin, and the hair- anyway, what Lance is trying to get at is that Keith is still  _ Keith _ , especially when you look at him this close. Where Keith might see a beast, Lance only sees the love of his life, scared and lonely and desperate for someone to  _ accept _ him. Lance can do that for him.

“You aren’t anything but you, Keith.” Breathes Lance, “You still have the same greasy mullet and the same pointy chin.”

Keith laughs, “ _ I  _ have a pointy chin? Have you seen yourself?”

“Hey!” Pouts Lance, his lips pursing, “I’m handsome!”

“Never said you weren’t.”

Lance practically chokes on his tongue, an instinctual shyness almost forcing his gaze down out of habit. He manages to save himself from  _ that _ embarrassment, however, looking off to the side instead of where his perverted mind wants his eyes to go. To his mortification, he can feel his cheeks heating to the point of blazing, and he hopes Keith thinks the steam is just getting to him. Speaking of…

“Uh-ah,” Stutters Lance, “I’m all wet now.” He laughs but it sounds forced, “I might as well shower too, at this point.”

Keith shakes his head, “Let me check them out first, there may be some that you shouldn’t get wet.”

His shoulders are already damp underneath Keith’s arms, the back of his neck is wet from the fingers that twirl there, and Lance can feel tiny droplets dripping down his back. He smiles at Keith, “C’mon, you spent too long in here, and my back is really starting to hurt.”

Keith’s back straightens and his body tenses, his jaw setting and his arms falling from Lance’s shoulders, “Why didn’t you say something sooner, idiot?!” He hisses, not unlike the big wet cat he looks like.

Lance wants to laugh it off but the legitimate anger in his friend’s inhuman eyes halts whatever joke he was about to quip. Instead, his teeth dig into his bottom lip and chew there for a moment, his heart beat picking up again. 

Keith reaches behind him and shuts off the water, leaving the two to chill in the open air of the bathroom. His hot gaze then returns to Lance and dips down to the skin tight flight suit that sticks to Lance’s every curve. The Blue Paladin feels terribly self conscious then so he crosses his arms at his chest for some semblance of covering. A strangled noise leaves Keith’s mouth as the movement draws attention to the mess of wires and metal at Lance’s forearm. 

The Galra gently takes Lance’s right hand in his, drawing it out from hiding, and searches for the clasp on the underside of the communicator. It’s bent but still holds strong, so Keith thumbs it until it unlocks and the metal parts at its seam. He quickly removes it, being careful of any metal that might be caught on Lance’s skin, and drops it on the ground thoughtlessly. Lance winces, there is definitely a shard or two stuck in his flesh. Keith’s ears press back at the noise, his face scrunching into an expression of fright.

“You’re hurt….” Grunts Keith, his tone distant and rough. His mind is far away from them as he brings Lance’s wrist to his mouth, and his eyes have darkened to a muted gold coloring that makes Lance’s heart skip a beat.

Lance tries for a chuckle but it’s lost to the gasp that is wrenched out of him as Keith, once again,  _ laps _ at his small lacerations with his strangely coarse tongue. The touch is painful at first, and uncomfortable, but his wounds tingle delightfully after Keith’s tongue passes over them as if...as if there’s  _ something _ in Keith’s  _ spit.  _ After everything that’s happened today, Lance wouldn’t be surprised. 

“K-Keith, buddy, yo-you’re doing the licking thing again, humans don’t do that-”

Keith grumbles in irritation, his gaze flashing with heated worry as it reflects a familiar inhumanity. He looks like...he looks like how he did in the warehouse. Like he’s temporarily lost himself. His tongue continues to prod at every cut it can find, leaving a trail of feel-good thrill in its wake as it descends further down Lance’s exposed skin. 

Just like in the warehouse, Lance feels that strange  _ vulnerability  _ within again. The kind that makes him want to slam his legs shut and run away before he can get eaten alive. His skin feels hot and his nerves sing, and there’s an incessant  _ ping!  _ that dances around his manhood.

When Keith comes across a shard of torn metal still embedded in the injury he thoroughly wets the area in his saliva, startling Lance with the way his tongue darts around it. The appendage is slick and hot, enjoyably soft along the tip and oddly rough, like a cat’s, on the flat surface. The Galra notices Lance’s wince at the broad strokes so he keeps to quick laps, and once he is satisfied with how effectively his tongue has cleaned the wound he pulls his lips back, exposing his razor sharp fangs. He gently bites at the edge of the debris and Lance sucks in a harsh breath.

“Wa-wait, that’s gonna hurt-”

Keith silences him by pulling it out in one smooth motion, surprising him with the shocking absence of pain. Lance blinks in surprise as Keith removes the other few and spits them off to the side, having totally expected them to hurt. The wounds are growing more numb with every pass of Keith’s tongue, leaving only that same tickling pleasure, as if someone was gently running their fingertips over his sensitive flesh. 

“Oh.” Lance says dumbly, “Your spit is magic. Of course it is.”

Humming in contentment now that Lance has stopped struggling, Keith pulls back from his forearm to focus his attention on Lance’s hand. He lifts it to his face and before Lance can get a word out against it, he parts his lips and  _ wraps them around Lance’s index finger. _

“Fuck!” Squeaks the Blue Paladin, the intoxicating wet heat of Keith’s mouth much more dizzying than the steamy atmosphere of the bathroom. “Keith!” 

Keith’s tongue runs along them messily, and he is careful to keep his fangs away although they occasionally scrape against Lance’s knuckles. Lance feels as though someone punched him in the stomach. The tingling numbness settles in and Lance’s body decides it’s a good idea to go ahead and move  _ all _ his blood from his brain to his groin. 

With every swipe of Keith’s tongue, Lance’s dick throbs in tune, crying out for the same attention as his finger. Keith’s dark eyes watch him with rapt interest as he pulls back and starts on the other four, giving each appendage equal friendly treatment and ending with Lance’s thumb. He licks it dutifully as he did the others before his gaze rolls downwards and he gives his thumb a long  _ suck. _

It’s like an electric storm along Lance’s spine, zapping down it and playing in his lower abdomen. It takes him a moment to realize that Keith’s staring at his  _ very obvious bulge.  _ His brain proceeds to shut down entirely at the expression of desperate  _ hunger _ on Keith’s face, leaving him only with one instinct.

Run like hell!

Lance snatches his hand back, head tilting up to face the ceiling and not the  _ nude _ (fuck fuck fuck he is naked, super naked, naked as the day he was born, and Lance has been standing here getting his  _ fingers sucked on  _ by him, how is this his fucking life) man before him. He laughs nervously, hands darting down to cover his straining erection, his voice comically high pitched like someone’s just kicked him in the balls, “Ha-ha! Okay, this was fun, but uh, you’re getting mighty pruny, buddy, and uh we have a first aid kit and my back hurts and we should rest before Gych gets back with the communicator and uh- yeah.” He turns away from Keith and swallows, “P-put your clothes on, please.” He can’t help the pleading tone at the end, the unlying overwhelmed begging.

_ Begging, hm, that’s an idea, he could probably make me beg-fuck, stop!  _ Lance begins to march (read “hobble”) towards the door, his hands turning into tight fists at his sides and his skin blazing red all the way from his hairline to his collarbones.  _ I can’t believe this, he just-and I just let it happen-I’m DYING- _

His only warning is an irritated snarl before a large hand suddenly wraps itself around his upper arm, jerking and dragging his lithe body into Keith’s wet, broad chest. Lance cries out in alarm, his feet slipping over the tiles as he falls backwards into Keith’s waiting arms. Instantly his arms wrap like vices around his chest and waist, both easily big enough to completely engulf him in warm skin. His back goes ramrod straight and his own arms are crushed to his sides, locked in place and unable to move.

He realizes then just how strong Keith’s transformation has made him. He twists his chest in an attempt to break free to succeed only in drawing a throaty growl from Keith. Jesus Christ, his arms and chest are like  _ iron.  _ Keith leans his head down to press his lips to Lance’s ear as his hips push into the small of Lance’s back, where Lance feels the bump of something  _ huge. _ He freezes and quivers like a rabbit caught in a wolf’s den. Keith is big, in more ways than one.

And Lance has never been so turned on in his life.

“Ke-Keith….” Mumbles Lance, his lips struggling to follow his train of thought as the Galra rumbles into his sensitive ear. 

“Don’t leave.” Comes Keith’s choppy reply, his tone absent of mind.

_ Oh.  _ Lance suddenly realizes.  _ This isn’t Keith, this is the Galra in him.  _ He swallows dryly again, embarrassed that Keith can probably hear the way his heart slams like a quarterback against the inside of his rib cage. The plea, now that he thinks about it, makes sense. Keith’s been abandoned all his life. First by his mom, then by his father’s heroic death, then by Shiro….his more primal side must be trying to protect his human emotions. The understanding makes giddy warmth bloom in his chest.

_ Keith really cares about me. As much as he cares about Shiro. _

His lips part into an excited smile and he whispers, “I won’t, Keith. I will never leave you. You’re stuck with me.”

Keith inhales sharply, the breath tickling Lance’s earlobe, and he shakes his head while loosening his grip, “Ah-Lance, I’m-” he cuts himself off and Lance glances back at him only to see the Galra covering  _ himself _ with his meaty hands and blushing a violent purple color. He speaks through gritted teeth, “I-I’m sorry, I lost myself again.”

Lance’s heart still fumbles between fear and delight but he shrugs on the outside, keeping himself collected, “It’s nothing. Just, uhm, get dressed and help me with my back.”

“Y-yeah.”

The Blue Paladin is quick to dart out, shutting the door gently behind him and releasing a long breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He leans against the closed door and grabs at his own arms, laying his hand over the spot where Keith grabbed him. These outbursts are concerning. There must be a way he can anticipate them. What do they have in common? He doesn’t feel as though he has enough information yet, and doesn’t really want to gather much more either. As hot as Galra Keith is, he much prefers his awkward Keith who doesn’t give him a fucking  _ heart attack.  _

There’s a soft laugh to his left and Lance turns to see Maxyn watching him with a twinkling gaze. Lance scowls, although there’s little heat to it, “Oh shut it.”

Maxyn only continues to chuckle merrily as Lance pouts his way to the bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so damn long haha I wrote it then moved shit around and took some shit out. Here's the final product. I hope you enjoyed it!   
> **SPOILERS FOR S7**  
>  So, I liked s7. Klance won't happen bc Dreamworks bigwigs won't let it, but we can all tell it was SUPPOSED to, I mean, look at it before s7. I still have some hope but at this point I want NO romantic end game for anyone. Axca and Keith make zero sense, so I'm hoping that shit show doesn't happen. It would really ruin Axca and Keith's kickass characters. Also, wasn't Axca like super in love with Lotor or something? Fuck.  
> As for Allurance....they're like Carly and Freddie from iCarly, in my opinion. Keith is Sam lmao.
> 
> ANYWAYS, Shiro was beautiful and bad ass, the story line was fucking bomb, and HUNK!!!!!!!!!!! So good.  
> Plz do not comment on this story about s7 if you are going to be negative bc I don't want to see it on here. Go bother me on Tumblr about it. Plz only comment about this chapter or if your s7 comment has something directly to do with what I said. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!


	5. Lover.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Secrets I have held in my heart_  
>  _Are harder to hide than I thought_  
>  _Maybe I just wanna be yours."_  
>  -Arctic Monkeys, _I Wanna Be Yours_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **CHAPTER WARNINGS: sensuality, language**

Keith doesn’t hang around long in the bathroom after Lance leaves (more like _escapes,_ what is happening to them-), only stays to quickly dry off his new body with the towel Maxyn provided. He keeps his eyes off the steady shade of violet his skin has transformed to. His stomach begins to roll whenever he focuses too long on it. Just like how it does now as what just transpired rushes a million miles a second through his head.

He isn’t sure what’s wrong with him. Why did he _grab_ Lance like that? Sure, the two are known for arguing and generally being dicks to one another but they’ve never been violent. Not even during sparring would it ever take an aggressive turn. So why did he lay his hands on Lance? It wasn’t that his intentions were ill, no, it scares him more now to realize he has _no idea_ why his body moved on its own. What motivated him? It felt something like...like fear. But why would he be afraid of Lance trying to flee an _insanely awkward_ debacle?

And he licked him! _Again!_ As in for the _second time!_ Why can’t he control himself?!

Every time he does something...strange to Lance, it’s as if his mind just _isn’t_ there. Like there’s something within Keith pushing at him, constantly whispering weird demands that suddenly increase in such grand volume that his body has no choice but to follow through with them. All he knows is that when he saw Lance’s wounds he _had_ to help him and for some inane reason that meant licking him. And sucking on his fingers.

Keith _sucked_ on Lance’s _fingers._

“I want to die….” Keith mutters to himself beneath his breath.

He dresses in the clothes their host left. It’s simple athletic gear, nothing fancy and feeling as though it’s made from spandex. He wonders, out of curiosity, what the Jaqat call it here in Eruk. The pants are long enough to cover his legs’ new distance and the shirt is even kind of loose on his shoulders. There’s a hole in the back of his pants for his tail to slip through. The outfit looks a lot like their black flight suits but the material isn’t as thick. It makes him want the unyielding comfort of his Blade of Marmora armor.

On his way towards the door he notices a small round mirror in the corner, hanging up by a nail in the wall. His golden eyes meet their reflection and his hair stands on end, his lips mindlessly pulling back into a battle hungry snarl.

 _Galra!_ His instincts call, _fight!_

He’s embarrassed once his brain catches up with his initial fright, and deeply disgusted by his glistening fangs. He looks away and down at his fists, the sight of his claws an uneasy one. It hurts when he watches his enlarged bones move beneath the surface of his skin so he can’t look there either. He wrenches the door open and stalks out.

Maxyn glances up at him with an amicable smile, ever patient with Keith’s sullen behavior. They don’t say anything and only point to a nearby room. Keith’s grateful for it even if his perpetual scowl suggests otherwise.

Keith crosses the hall and spots Lance through an open doorway to what seems to be a bedroom of sorts. He takes a breath before entering, taking care to thump his tail against the threshold as to not startle Lance with a sudden appearance.

Unfortunately, Lance still jumps a little. He is quick to soothe his wary expression into amiability but Keith still catches the nervous glint in his friend’s eye. His chest tightens as Lance smiles at him. “The clothes fit?” He asks.

With a shrug Keith shuts the door behind him. He doesn’t miss how Lance’s back straightens and decides not to mention it. He may not be the best in most social situations but even Keith knows it isn’t a good idea to dwell too long on uncomfortable topics. “Yeah, they’re fine. Yours are dirty, do you…?”

Lance nods, “Oh yeah, Maxyn offered me some but uh, figured I should get my wounds treated first. I don’t want to get blood on them.”

Reminded once more of Lance’s injuries, a small pressure pushes into the forefront of Keith’s head. That voice again, persistent and tyrannical, flows from within it. He ignores it and grunts in agreement. He moves to kneel next to Lance on the duvet and takes stock of the materials Lance took out of the first aid kit. At least he knows his stuff. Keith’s lips twitch as pride builds within. Lance has learned a lot since that first day in the castle ship.

“Alright, take off your top.” Commands Keith, his attention on the little bottle of alcohol in hand. How’d they even get this? Must just be a universal element.

There’s some fiddling from Lance but Keith doesn’t look up. There’s some _more_ fiddling, hurried this time, so Keith glances over at his friend.

Lance is trying to find the suctioned seal hiding the zipper at the back of his suit, his tongue jutting out to the right and his face scrunched in adorable determination. Keith’s heart warms and he chuckles softly, momentarily forgetting the tenseness in the atmosphere at Lance’s antics.

“Don’t laugh at me.” Lance pouts once he catches Keith’s gaze, his arms dropping to his sides with a huff, “Help me!”

Keith grunts with an exaggerated eye roll, more than happy to fall back into the comfort of their usual bickering. This is good, he knows this. Even as his fingers tremble as they near the zipper on the back of Lance’s suit he continues to rely heavily upon their niche to keep himself from shutting down completely. _Holy hell I’m actually about to undress Lance, LANCE-_

At the brush of Keith’s claws on his back, Lance’s spine stiffens. He doesn’t flinch but the Galra can tell it takes him great effort not to. The thought makes his ears droop and his tail lay limp beside him on the duvet. He knows Lance is terrified of him but seeing proof of it _hurts._ Something in him is made frustrated by it, preferring to speak with actions instead of words. It wants to gather Lance into his arms, clean with wounds with loving care, and then show him exactly how deep that care goes. Keith bites at the inside of his lip, wincing when his new fangs cut through the skin there. He needs to reconsider his newly found strength.

He tugs the zipper down, each pull revealing the tanned knobs of Lance’s spine. The younger’s back curls outward to expose more caramel skin and the zipper begins to stick nearing the small of Lance’s back. Keith realizes it is due to drying blood that has caked into the metal teeth, the sight making anger shoot hot behind his eyes. He curls his fingers as gently as he can behind the zipper, his knuckles brushing cooling sticky wetness and making Lance suck in a breath. He cautiously frees the material and, with the zipper no longer touching Lance’s skin, rips the metal and breaks the zip.

“Didja have to break it, dude?” Murmurs Lance, his voice soft and breathy. He shifts his weight from one thigh to the other.

Keith’s eyes are stuck to the bloodied mess at the base of Lance’s spine but he manages a curt, “Yes.” He reaches up and pushes at the sleeves, “Take it off.”

Lance simply nods and does as told.

The Galra then maneuvers Lance onto his stomach, his head facing away from the door to the room. Keith swings his knee over Lance’s legs and hovers atop him. Big blue eyes peek shyly from below, the rest of that gorgeous face hidden by a clenched fist. Keith’s heart does a slam dunk off his lung and he quickly steers his gaze away lest he be caught forever. He grabs the alcohol, tweezers, and gauze from the side. He’s going to have to waste some gauze in order to clean up the blood.

_You could probably do this just as well if you sat beside him instead of on top of him._

Keith ignores the rational part of his brain. His chest is too warm with the satisfaction of seeing Lance so trusting.

_Let me enjoy this!_

“...Keith…?”

Keith glances back down at Lance, his face pulled into a question, “Yeah?”

“Can, uh, can you talk, please…? It’s just...this feels super awkward...all quiet….” Keith thanks his newly enhanced hearing for allowing him to catch the sudden meekness of Lance’s tone. The young man has moved his fist and tucks it beneath his chin, his bottom lip captured between his pearly white teeth. Keith almost keels over right then and there. How can a man be so _cute?_

Keith clears his throat, “Uh yeah, but you’re the better talker out of the both of us. I’ll try though.” He gathers his thoughts, trying to cut through the seductive rumble within begging to be released. _No I will NOT tell Lance that he looks_ right _beneath me, so stop trying!_ He settles on probably the worst thing he could’ve gone for, “So, uh, uhm, how’s your...day…?”

Lance’s lips twitch and he rolls his eyes, “I’m going to be real with you, bucko, it sucks balls.”

The snort escapes Keith unwarranted but its familiar sound seems to chill Lance out a bit. Keith lets it build into a soft chuckle for that very reason, “Yeah, you don’t need to tell me.” He soaks a wad of gauze in alcohol and then picks up the tweezers in his other hand after setting the bottle down. He leans down. The air changes and his nose tingles as it picks up the scent of copper something sour. Gych was right, Lance’s wounds need treating _now._ Keith wastes no time to blot at the area as carefully but efficiently as he can.

Lance grits his teeth and bears it, only a small whimper sounding through his clenched lips. He begins to talk to help with the pain, “So...what was up with all that in the bathroom?”

 _Wow, and I thought_ I _was the blunt one._ Keith accidentally presses too hard at the question and Lance curses, shooting the Galra a dirty look. Keith frowns apologetically, “Shit-sorry, uh-” luckily the blood isn’t too thick and his wounds have already stopped bleeding. He cuts through the grime pretty quickly and gets to work with the tweezers, catching shards of glass and tugging them out of Lance’s skin.

“It’s fine,” Answers Lance, and after an awkward beat of silence he says, “are you going to answer me?”

Nervousness and embarrassment tag team Keith’s guts and he resists glancing up to gauge Lance’s expression. He keeps his eyes on his work and his tone neutral, “I don’t know, Lance.”

Lance’s tone is a tired sigh and Keith is suddenly reminded that they have been awake for over twenty-three hours, “You don’t know if you’re going to answer me, or you don’t know what happened?”

“I don’t know what happened.”

“I think...I think whatever that shit did to you, it didn’t stop skin deep.”

Keith removes the last of the shards that his enhanced vision can see. He double and triple checks. “What are you talking about, Lance.” But he knows _exactly_ what Lance is talking about, and he agrees completely. He can’t get that _pressure_ out of his head, this new part of him that howls like a true beast, the bloodlust and ferocity that has always fueled his combat now hungrier than ever.

“You’ve been different and you know it! We _need_ to talk about this.” Lance attempts to push his torso up so Keith places a strong hand in between his smooth shoulder blades. The palm of his hand heats at the bare skin contact but he ignores it as he shoves Lance back down. The Blue Paladin grunts in annoyance so Keith leaves his hand there. It’s so...large, splayed out in the middle of his back like that. “I know making you shower freaked you out, and I’m sorry, but we need to see what we’re working with here. We can’t have an episode like that in the middle of a firefight.”

 _You’re a liability. Your mate thinks you’ll drag him down._ Keith’s ears press tightly to his head and a low, agonized trill bubbles in his throat. It sounds downright animalistic as it leaves him and Lance stares up at him in shock. His heart feels like it’s shattered within his chest, the pieces ricocheting and digging into the walls of his rib cage. _You can’t protect him._

Lance seems to almost understand how Keith is feeling and he is quick to amend his words, “Wait, shit, I didn’t mean it like that. I just-ugh! We need to talk about it so that I can help you! Let me _help_ you!” He puts his other arm beneath his head to raise it since Keith isn’t going to let him up any time soon.

Just like that, Lance’s words soothes the ache within like a balm over a burn. Keith almost gasps at how unpredictable his emotions have become. He takes his hand off Lance’s back in order to use both of them to clean and dress his wounds. “I honestly don’t know what comes over me, Lance. All I know is that whenever you’re hurt, or in danger, some weird part of me overrides all sense. It’s violent and scary and-”

“Keith, I told you once and I’ll say it a million times until you believe it, _I’m not scared of you._ ”

Keith grumbles and looks away, finishing up with the wounds by applying an appropriate layer of gauze on top. Lance isn’t having it and he twists his body, ignoring how Keith’s eyes flash in warning, now sitting on his ass beneath him with his legs between his. Keith is practically on his lap.

“Will you stop that, asshole?!” Hisses Lance, his bright blue eyes darkening with anger and reminding Keith of stormy skies, “You’re Keith! Red Paladin and _Texan._ Sure, you may be all big and bad now, but don’t let that get to your head!” He pokes Keith’s broad chest with his index finger, expression pulled into tight fury.

_He’s so damn cute when he’s mad._

Keith is so enamored with Lance’s beauty that he almost misses the man’s next words, “I don’t care that you look like a Galra because you’re still _human_ inside!”

His mind blanks as he stares at his best friend. Lance’s cheeks are red and his thin brows drawn low. The flustered determination there is a good look on him. Keith suddenly feels giddy, like his bones are too big for his skin and he just wants to take off into the night hollering with joy. He doesn’t notice but his tail wraps itself around Lance’s calf, and a grin stretches so far across his face that his cheeks begin to hurt. Lance sounds angry but he sounds real _accepting,_ too, and that’s all that matters to Keith.

Lance blanches at the expression on Keith’s face before struggling to maintain his anger once more. Keith can call his bullshit though, his lips are twitching minutely at the corners and his ears are turning red, “Stop grinning at me like that!” He attempts to tug his legs out from underneath the menace to his heart but the tail around his shin doesn’t let him get far. “I knew that thing was prehensile! It kinda reminds me of _HellBoy_ ’s tail, but your’s is all furry, you ever seen _HellBoy_ , Keith?”

But Keith really isn’t paying much attention to what Lance is saying. It’s as if cotton has been tugged over his big ears, or his head’s been pushed underwater and someone is holding him there. His hands, which had been resting politely by his sides while Lance ranted, move forward to brace into the duvet at Lance’s hips. He leans forward, effectively cutting off whatever it was Lance was rambling on about, and dips his head into the warm nook between his friend’s neck and shoulder.

Lance goes stiff again as Keith nuzzles his nose to the soft skin there. Keith intends to keep it pretty PG, refusing to give into the voice in his head telling him to press his lips and tongue to Lance’s neck and _suck._ He just wants to show his gratitude so, even though he is close, he tries to make his bulkiness seem less than it actually is by hunching his shoulders. He breathes slowly, “Thank you, Lance.”

As shocking as it is, Lance is at a loss for words. The skin of his cheek brushes softly against Keith’s ear as his jaw works, probably mouthing something as Lance is prone to do whenever he’s feeling particularly flabbergasted. The jaw suddenly shuts with an audible _click!_ of teeth and Lance squirms once more. It’s so slight that Keith is sure he only notices because of his keener Galra senses.

Speaking of senses, Keith’s nose twitches as a new smell hits it. The Galra presses in closer to take a deeper inquisitive sniff. Lance shivers again in response. Keith can’t place it, but whatever it is, it’s _delightful._ It’s spicy and raw, reaching for that viciousness within and calling it to arms. What is it?! How can a teenage boy who hasn’t showered in over twenty hours possibly smell this good?

Lance has become surprisingly docile in Keith’s arms, none of his usual bravado or overcompensation present in the timid lines of his broad shoulders and the slope of his beautiful nape. His fingers rest lightly over Keith’s pectorals, poised in a way that suggests he might push the Galra away but is second guessing the thought. “Yo-you’re…,” he gulps, taking a shaky breath that Keith can hear rattle through his throat before continuing a little breathlessly, “...you’re being very...gentle...i-it’s kinda weird, man.”

That stings but Keith knows it isn’t misplaced. He isn’t exactly the nicest to Lance, even though he’s positive the man’s the love of his damn life. You couldn’t teach Keith charm even if you beat him black and blue with it. He hums in agreement and tightens his legs inward to press his knees into the sides of Lance’s hips. The contact is nice but he wishes there was nothing in the way, “I know. I can’t help it. Everything in me’s telling me to…,” he pulls his head up to nose along Lance’s ear, lips close to touching, “...be soft on you. Must be some Galra thing.”

The smell increases _tenfold_ and it almost drives him fucking _mad._ It sends a sharp spike of heady lust into his abdomen and clouds his judgement. His hands twitch at their place on the duvet, begging to reach up and push Lance back into the soft bedding. What he would do then...he isn’t sure.

Luckily for them both, Lance decides then to mumble something inaudible. His breath breezes past Keith’s sensitive ear and the Galra almost shudders in delight.

“What?” Questions Keith, pulling back to look at Lance quizzically, “I didn’t catch that.”

The Blue Paladin isn’t looking at him. Instead those dark sea-foam eyes are cast to the side, staring at the wall. His face is flushed prettily and his teeth worry his plump bottom lip. It takes Keith everything he has not to grab Lance’s chin and lap at that mouth until it yields. He tries to focus on Lance’s words and get his head out of the gutter.

“Do you remember what happened right before that thing dropped you in the vat?” Murmurs Lance, this time loud enough for Keith to pick up.

Keith blinks, at first confused, “Uh...I had all my ribs broken?” He raises an eyebrow, “Pretty sure one of my lungs collapsed, too. Quintessence is pretty powerful stuff.”

Lance winces at Keith’s lackadaisical tone. His gaze darts back up in a glare that’s more devastated than furious. He hisses, “How can you just talk so calmly about it?!”

Keith almost just answers with a shrug but quickly realizes, at the pissed off look Lance gives him, that won’t cut it for a response. “We have bigger things to worry about, Lance. Like how you haven’t eaten or rested in twenty hours and we really should be taking advantage of the time we have now.”

“That’s another thing!” Interjects Lance, “You keep focusing on me! Worrying like some mother hen! What’s going on with that?”

“Of course I’m worrying about you, you’re _injured!_ ” Keith exclaims in an incredulous tone.

“You were too!”

“Not anymore!”

“It’s just _weird,_ Keith! You never care about me this much!”

Keith jerks back from where he was leaning in to argue in Lance’s face, a frown resting heavy on his mouth. He quietly asks, “You think I don’t _care_ about you?”

Lance understands the gravity of his words and tries to backpedal, “Wait, no, I know you care about me, you care about all of us-” and it’s true. Keith loves and cares for his team, his _family,_ so damn much that it hurts sometimes. Lance truly believes that there is nothing in the universe that would be safe from Keith’s wrath if one of them were to be harmed. But that’s only in cases of great mortal terror. Keith never worries over a few cuts and scrapes, never feels the need to remind others to eat or sleep because he trusts them to remember themselves. He _especially_ doesn’t threaten to rip someone’s head off for flirting with any of the Paladins, either. If anything he gets that annoyed expression he always does and snaps at Lance for wasting time. It’s this new attitude he isn’t understanding, “-but this is different.”

“How?” And there’s that high pitched bewildered tone again, saved only for Lance’s bullshit. “How is this any different from before?!”

“You’ve just been acting weird!”

“Have you looked at me lately, Lance? I think I’m entitled to act a little ‘weird!’”

Lance bites his lip again but it isn’t as alluring due to the weighted guilt in his eyes. The shame is replaced by indignant anger however as he bites, “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

Keith does know but now he’s feeling confrontational, “Do I?”

“Shut the hell up, Keith, I just told you, I don’t care what you look like! And I wasn’t even talking about your _ribs_ or whatever when I asked!” Lance’s voice has raised, grating in Keith’s more sensitive ears regardless of how silkily his tongue rolls.

“Then what were you asking?!”

“If you remembered what you _said,_ you dimwit!”

Lance’s eyes widen after he shouts, his jaw snapping shut as if in shock by his own words. Keith’s brows furrow in blatant confusion. What he said? What did he say? Was it important? He racks his brain for everything from the past three hours but comes up with nothing. No, all he can remember is his fury at seeing that poor Jaqat so heinously outnumbered, tortured and reduced to begging for their life, that he acted impulsively. Then pain. Yup, a whole world of pain.

It’s like he’s trying to cut through clouds. Every time he thinks he’s gotten through the disorientation it just comes swirling right back to befuddle him and lead him astray. He remembers being crushed in that monster’s grasp, coughing up blood and it speckling his cheeks. Looking down at Lance, who looked so tiny and terrified...his bright eyes dimmed with horror...Keith wheezing, his breath taking shape as his useless tongue tried its best to form words…

Then weightlessness.

He doesn’t recall bathing in the quintessence. Maybe that’s a good thing.

Keith feels a headache coming on from all his concentration, “Was it...right before it dropped me?” The rolling clouds are beginning to slowly drift from one another, revealing a startling truth beneath. It’s on the tip of his tongue and burns like a furnace. _Just what is it?!_

He thinks Lance isn’t going to answer and is prepared to ask again when the other man nods in a jerky fashion. He still won’t look at Keith. His face is redder than Keith’s ever seen it and if Keith strains just a bit, he can hear Lance’s heart beat as fast as hummingbirds’ wings within his chest.

“You know what? Forget I asked!” Lance suddenly quips, nervously trying to tug his leg free from Keith’s tail once again. “Ju-just forget it, it isn’t important, it’s not-”

At Lance’s familiar panicked tone, Keith’s mind recedes back in time. _He’s suspended in the air, choking on his own blood and staring at the frightened face of the man he loves._

_Loves._

_LOV-!_

It all comes crashing back to Keith in one giant heap of memory. Lance, presently, is staring at him, having been cut off by the strange whining noise that he just made. Keith would’ve been embarrassed had he not just remembered he kinda, sorta, maybe, _definitely confessed to Lance McClain._

“O….h….” Keith drags as he thanks whatever gods are out there. He’s purple now and his blush won’t be as apparent as it would’ve been had he his usual pasty pale complexion.

The same can’t be said for Lance, poor guy. He’s caught on that Keith’s remembered and looks as though he might pass out any second. Keith understands that all too well.

 _Play it off!_ His rational side, growing ever meeker, demands desperately, _say you love everyone on team Voltron!_

But he also knows it’s a bit too late for that now. He’s been struck dumb and silent for too long, staring at Lance like an idiot too much to slap a _no homo!_ on the end of his confession. Oh fuck, oh fuck, he said that because he thought he was going to _die_ , damn it! It was _never ever_ on the agenda to actually tell Lance about his feelings! He was just going to wallow in pining friendzone hell until the end of fucking time! Now he’s in _actual_ hell!

Lance’s face is tugged into an expression of worry, the blush still prominent but his voice losing its flustered stuttering, “Uh, Keith? You okay?” He gently grazes Keith’s forearm, trying to keep his touch delicate.

His voice pulls Keith from his stupor like pulling a stick from black tar. Suddenly Keith feels _ridden_ with guilt. He lurches away from Lance and unwraps his tail from around the other’s calf. He hurries to the other side of the duvet, his eyes already avoiding looking directly at Lance.

“Kei-”

_“I’m sorry!”_

Lance is stunned into silence and Keith takes that as permission to continue.

“I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, I-I never wanted to make things uncomfortable between us or take advantage of your kindness- I was never going to tell you about it because I knew it’d only cause a rift between us.. It would even cause tension in _Voltron_ , and I didn’t want it back then, and I still don’t want it now! I didn’t want to create another distraction for you or myself, so I decided to just.. cope.. I’m so sorry, Lance….” Keith takes a shuddering breath, feeling not for the first time today as if he were about to burst into tears. His blood roars in his ears as he prattles on, a nauseating terror gripping his heart and keeping it hostage.

“You’re-you’re just so, so _beautiful,_ and kind, and funny and smart and strong-” He cuts himself off and almost bites clean through his tongue. Blood swells hot in his mouth but he hardly notices, “I never wanted to make you uncomfortable. I don’t, _fuck,_ I don’t want you to ever feel that way around me.”

He swallows, “I’m sorry, Lance, I know you trust me and you’re probably disgusted I mean- fucking _look_ at me!” His voice raises and Lance winces at the heartbreak there. He’s never heard Keith sound so upset before. “I’m a fucking _monster!_ I-I have _claws_ and big fucking _teeth_ and half the time I can’t even _control_ myself around you, how sick is that?!”

Lance attempts to interject, moving forward on the duvet to get closer to Keith. He only stops at the warning growl that sounds more terrified than angry, staring with huge watery eyes at his friend.

Keith continues on his rant and Lance is horrified to see a tear slip down his left cheek, “I’m so sorry, please don’t feel uncomfortable, I won’t bring it up again ever, I’ll get over it, please just-”

“Fuck that!” Lance’s snappy remark is the only warning Keith gets before he’s abruptly tackled by Lance’s full weight onto his back on the bed. He’s got a lap full of Blue Paladin all of the sudden and his brain practically shuts down.

Lance hovers over top of the Galra, tears of his own trailing down his cheeks and his lips pulled back into a snarl that could rival any alien’s. He shouts in Keith’s face, overcome with anger and an acute defiance that feels something like _heartache,_ “Shut up! You told me you love me and then you apologize for it?! What kind of pussy move is that?!”

Keith’s closes his mouth quickly, staring up in awe. He would speak but the intensiveness of Lance’s glare is more than a little intimidating.

“Calling yourself a monster, do you know who you are?! You’re _Keith Kogane,_ for fuck’s sake! You’re the most heroic man I’ve ever met and we know _Takashi Shirogane!_ I’ll say it once and I’ll say it a bazillion more times until you get it through your thick skull: I don’t care what you look like on the outside, I _love you regardless!_ ”

Keith would like to say he takes Lance’s confession with dignity. Would _like_ to tell the team later about how he _suavely_ scooped Lance into his arms and kissed him so hard their lips bruised.

But no, it was more like a bomb dropped.

No, _literally_ a bomb dropped.

A loud screech of warning from outside their room sounds and, unexpectedly and very unwarranted, their door caves in beneath the force of the blast their world erupts in blinding white light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT. I am the least romantic person on the planet so it took me 6 years to write this shitty confession scene.  
> I tagged this fic "Insecure Lance" but really it needs to be "Insecure Keith" hahaah  
> I am really busy with college bullshit but I am trying to be more active. I am also depressed 24/7 so that really kicks me in the nutsack.  
> Anyways! I hoped you enjoyed this! Please send me some constructive criticism on this confession scene............I'm dumb and stupid.


	6. Jealousy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"I wanna be your setting lotion (I wanna be)_  
>  _Hold your hair in deep devotion (How deep?)_  
>  _At least as deep as the Pacific Ocean."_  
>  -Arctic Monkeys, _I Wanna be Yours_

The world erupts into an ear splitting screech. Thick green smoke billows in from beyond the tattered remains of the bedroom door, spreading quickly into the room to obscure the Paladins’ vision. The floors shake with the stomping of enemy boots and lingering concussions of the blast. 

Keith crushes Lance to his chest so tightly that the human can hardly breathe, his lithe form completely enveloped by Keith’s stockier shoulders. Lance can hear a steady snarl building in Keith’s chest, a deep rumble that scares him more than the shouts of the Jaqat trying to fit into the tiny parlor room outside. He opens his furiously clenched eyes to find his face has been shoved into the other’s hard pectoral. He attempts to pull back but Keith doesn’t allow him to.

Instead Keith flips around, dragging Lance in a stone grip behind his back. Something moves outside the door and he releases his charge in order to leap at it, a deathly growl on his lips and a promise of murder glinting in his golden eyes. 

Lance, however, recognizes the gentle features of the creature in the doorway and juts out his arms. He screams, “That’s Maxyn!”

Fortunately for everyone involved, Keith manages to thwart his own attack in time. He stumbles to the left and crashes into the wall, slamming his head against the plaster. It cracks beneath the blow and the pale dust of dried paint powders Keith’s raven hair. Lance gasps and rushes over to him, grabbing his own jacket and their bayards on the way, “Keith!”

“This way- hurry, paladins!” Maxyn cuts in, tone bluntly serious. Up close Lance can see a trail of tan blood dripping down the side of their face, its source a wicked curve of a wound on the crown of their bald head. Their clothes are singed by the explosion, some areas holding on only by scorched threads. The skin there that Lance can now see is already blistering over. “I managed to hit lockdown before they could get more than their smoke bomb inside but we do not have much time!”

Lance’s next breath has him dissolving into coughs, the green smoke thick and putrid in his nostrils. He raises his jacket to his mouth in hopes of some ventilation. Keith’s not faring much better but he grabs the red bayard out of Lance’s hand before seizing his upper arm. He drags Lance with him as they follow swiftly after their ally. 

The Jaqat guides them out of the bedroom and down the hallway, past the bathroom and towards the back of the house. There’s a scrunched door some ways down from another mysterious tiled room, so short that even average human sized Lance will have to squat to make it. He glances at his companions in a panic, terrified that neither of them will fit and they’ll have to fight their way out of here through the hordes of homicidal aliens. 

Maxyn rips open the door just as a startling screech of bent metal comes from the direction of the parlor. He moves to the side and speaks to Keith, “You go first, Keith! Your enhanced vision will guide Lance. I will bring up the rear!”

Wasting no time Keith complies, crouching a foot and a half lower than his usual height in order to squeeze inside. Within is an immediate pitch black staircase, one both of the Paladins recognize from Maxyn’s screens. The sides of the walls press into Keith’s arms and the tips of his ears brush the low ceiling. His  hand slides down Lance’s arm to clasp his palm and lead him forwards. They thunder down the stairs as Maxyn slams the door shut behind them. 

Lance cannot see his fingers a centimeter from the tip of his nose, more or less the steps in front of him. Luckily Keith has a watchful eye and an obsessive compulsion to keep Lance safe. The Galra prevents his human from running into the stone walls or tripping over his own feet with muttered warnings and ungentle tugs.

Maxyn is hot on Lance’s heels, so close that he can feel their warm breath on the back of his neck. The Jaqat is struggling as much as Keith, having to scrunch down to half their size in order to fit properly. It seems to Lance that they are running through a long hallway, one that is narrow and winds precariously at sudden sharp curves. He is grateful for Keith’s guidance as his shoulder bumps into yet another wall. That would have been his damn  _ face _ without the other being there.

After what seems to be nearly ten minutes of dead sprinting, the three companions turn a corner and swiftly approach a large metal door. Hanging above it is a harsh blue light, casting the hall and door frame into intimidating shadow. Maxyn grunts from behind, “There is a bio scanner-”

They skid to halt just before it, forced by the suffocating closeness of the walls into tight proximity. Lance’s spine screams in pain from the awkward crunch he has been holding and he eyes his friends with pity. They must be feeling even worse than himself. Maxyn draws in nearer, their huge chest pushing into Lance’s back as they reach out for the soft glow of a small computer screen. Lance is then forced further into Keith’s back. He braces one hand on the Galra’s back as his face squishes against a muscular shoulder blade. 

Keith rumbles, minute enough that Lance feels it more than he hears it. He glances up in confusion at Keith to see him glaring holes at Maxyn. They are in probably the  _ worst  _ situation imaginable and yet still Keith has the time to be a jerk! 

“Unbelievable….” Mutters Lance.

Maxyn pulls back, relieving the human of the crushing heat of two alien bodies, just as the door clicks. The blue light switches to green as Keith pushes it wide open. On the other side of the passageway, there is a huge ladder leading upwards into even more darkness. Lance gulps quietly through his harsh panting. He’s not the biggest fan of the dark. Or heights. Or heights in the dark.

Keith pulls on Lance’s hand as he takes off towards the ladder. He barks back to their guide, “Where does this lead?!” He reaches the first rung of the ladder and heaves his lumbering body upwards, perching on the ladder and reaching down a large hand to Lance.

It’s an awkward hustle to find somewhere on Lance’s person to stash their bayards and his jacket. Finally he ends up twisting his jacket into a strange sort of sling, depositing the bayards within and tying it tightly diagonally across his back. Grabbing Keith’s hand and allowing him to hoist him up, Lance nervously gets his bearings in the blackness. 

Maxyne answers and the three begin to ascend, “An abandoned storage locker at the back of a gambling den.”

“And that’s gonna help us with the killer drug dealers  _ how?! _ ” Lance exclaims, feeling a  _ tad  _ more than stressed as he almost loses his footing. 

“Down the street is one of the royal family’s secret police depot. There we will be safe, the building is virtually impenetrable.”

“I’m sensing a  _ but  _ there, Maxy.”

“It is impenetrable to all Jaqat technologies...but not all Galra. Who, as you two well know, are on their way.”

Keith grunts from above them, “Don’t remind us. Aren’t all your police forces corrupted, or something?”

Maxyn makes a strange noise that somehow translates to disagreement, “The civilian forces are. The militaristic one, however, are far too disciplined and loyal to Kaiser Tymna to defect.”

With arms aching from wounds and fatigue, Lance scoffs humorlessly, “I sure hope s-” His trail of thought is cut off as his foot misses a run, slipping perilously through the bars and jostling his right hand out of place. He gasps in terrified shock, feeling his body swing dangerously to the side, threatening the grip of his left hand.

“Lance!” Shouts Keith.

A rough hand seizes the bottom of his dangling foot, providing a sturdy surface to push off of. Lance sighs in relief as Maxyn assists him back onto the ladder proper, thanking his lucky stars that their new friend has such quick reflexes. They’ve been climbing for awhile and it’d be quite the fall.

Laughing purely out of frayed nerves and jitters, Lance shakily breathes, “Th-thanks a million, Maxyn.”

“Please be more careful, Lance.” Maxyn responds.

Keith chips in with a vicious snarl, a sound more animal than human, “Watch what the fuck you’re doing!”

Furrowing his brows, Lance glares up at Keith even though he can’t see him in the dark, “Newsflash, asshat, I don’t have night vision!”

“If you were just paying attention-”

“Oh  _ fuck  _ you-”

“Paladins!” Snaps Maxyn, “We are being chased by blood thirsty Jaqat! And the Galra are nearly at our front door! Get moving!”

Successfully chastised, both Keith and Lance fall silent and continue their climb upwards. Lance’s cheeks burn with shame, and also with anger. Who does Keith think he’s talking to like that?  _ Certainly  _ not the guy who just fucking  _ confessed  _ to him! At the thought of his rushed confession, another wild emotion joins the fray. He shakes his head quickly to dispel any of those thoughts. Now is not the time, just like it isn’t the time for Keith to be, well,  _ Keith! _

There is a thud above and Lance smacks his forehead on the bare bottom of Keith’s foot. He hisses in both pain and disgust, already feeling a smear of dirt on his skin. Not like it matters much, he’s filthy anyways. He should’ve taken a shower while he had the chance.

“How do I open this?” Keith asks, peering back down at Maxyn.

Maxyn has stopped right before their head touches Lance’s shoes, good for them. Must be nice to have  _ night vision!  _ “Turn the wheel to the left three times, and then to the right five.”

The obvious squeak of metal on metal greets their ears as Keith follows the instructions. In no time flat, he is lifting open the pothole covering and lifting himself up to peek over the rim. After making sure the coast is clear, he escapes the ladder and reaches down to assist Lance.

Lance has no choice but to take Keith’s offered hand as the storage locker is just as dark as the passageway. He wants to stay mad at Keith but the Galra’s meaty palms on his waist continue to send delightful shivers down his spine. Their grip only tightens as Keith drags Lance into his body, their kneecaps and chests bumping in odd places. The human paladin bites his chapped bottom lip, slowly tearing his gaze from somewhere around Keith’s pectorals to look up at him.

Bright golden sclera, glowing like two fiery beacons on a foggy horizon, stare down at him. They are alight with an emotion that Lance is finally starting to understand. How long has Keith been looking at him this way? How could Lance have been so oblivious? Now that the secret’s out, nothing could be more obvious. Keith’s brash protectiveness, how close he stands to him in briefings or on diplomatic ventures to coalition planets. His eagerness to return Lance’s challenges, like a young kid on the playground making fun of his crush. 

How could have Lance not noticed the stark desire behind that scorching stare, something he, up until recently, assumed was a glare of contempt? 

Lance swallows, his mouth running dry and useless, as he quickly looks away. There is faint music playing someplace outside the locker, along with a steady symphony of laughter and voices. They are right near the street, just as Maxyn said.

Maxyn closes the pothole behind them, turning the wheel on top until the lock latches once more. They straighten, cracking many vertebrae in a surprisingly feline stretch as they do so. It remains difficult for Lance to see in the dim light shining from between a crack in a door close by so he has to squint to make out Maxyn’s face.

The Jaqat gestures to the door, “Let us make haste, paladins, we have not much time.”

“Hey, buddy, ever heard of  _ contractions? _ ” 

Keith squeezes Lance’s waist, making him jump a little. Lance casts a scowl back at him, knowing damn well he can see him properly. They trail after their alien companion, Keith’s hands dropping from Lance’s waist and leaving a brusque chill behind. Brief spite or not, Lance is quick to slip his right hand into the other’s left since that’s their  _ thing  _ now, apparently. He is secretly delighted by their sudden vast difference in palm size. Keith wraps his fingers around Lance’s tightly.

“I am not sure I know what these  _ contractions  _ are.” Answers Maxyn, tone distant as they crack the door and peer out to check for enemies, “Are they from your planet?”

“Yeah, they have to do with grammar and such.”

“Grammar…?” Maxyn opens the door wider and turns to Lance, looking puzzled, “My translator is telling me this is the rule of your language?”

“Pretty much. Don’t you have language rules?”

“Yes, but I do not understand this  _ grammar  _ or these  _ contractions  _ and what they have to do with one another.”

Keith groans heavily all of the sudden, cutting the two off, “Language lessons later, the depot, Maxyn?”

Maxyn has the dignity to at least look a little embarrassed for their distraction. Lance, on the other hand, is a man  _ without  _ much shame, and is nothing but amused. 

“Of course, my apologies.” Maxyn says as the three exit the locker. They have arrived in a back alleyway offset from a larger road. Around a nearby corner they find an open end leading to the main street and another continuing alley, making a t-shape. At the open end of the alley they see a familiar crowd of alien folk, all mingling and merrymaking without a care in the world. 

Keith frowns, speaking up from behind Lance, “Do they not care that they’re basically trapped in Eruk?”

Maxyn shakes their head, moving towards the adjacent alley, “There is not much care in Eruk. The population is either too drugged or too intoxicated to notice anything out of the ordinary.”

“Oh,” Lance comments absentmindedly, “kinda like Las Vegas.”

Obviously having no way to know what Las Vegas is, Maxyn just grunts in confirmation to placate their human companion, “We will stick to the alleyways. It is imperative that we avoid detection at all costs.”

“Roger dodger.” 

Keith only sighs as he tugs Lance along.

 

* * *

 

The Jaqat throne room is obscenely large, almost the length of a city block and as tall as a three story building. The ceiling is formed into a strange terraced pyramid with a large Balmerian crystal suspended by industrial metal cables hanging from the apex. It glows a warm amber color, illuminating the room in dim lighting. At the center of the unevenly slated stone flooring, a deep pool of murky blue water has been constructed into the earth. The pool takes up most of the room and the meager light does little to allow Voltron a look within. 

Princess Allura was careful to keep her paladins from the lapping edges of the water, only having Shiro approach the deep basin at her side while the others keep back. The two wait nervously, with Allura glancing about the room and Shiro staring into the abyss, trying to make sense of the dancing shadows in the depths. The air smells strangely like fresh pine and salty dunes.

Many Jaqat soldiers line the far walls, ranging in all sizes and races. The smallest is a thin Flight type who still stands at least three feet over Shiro’s head. They watch Voltron emotionlessly, their dark gazes making Hunk’s skin crawl from his place beside Pidge. 

A Hunter Jaqat, dressed in the culture’s traditional warrior armor, stands beside Shiro and Allura. The alien stares down at them with the same stoic features as their brethren. They speak, “Kaiser Tymna will be with you shortly. Their Excellency understands time is not on our side.”

Princess Allura nods, keeping her features politely blank. The Jaqat are fairly modernized as far as intergalactic standards are concerned but their past culture remains a strong influence on their actions today. She remembers the diplomacy lessons she took back on Altea, how her teacher informed her that she is to never show emotion among warrior races such as the Jaqat. It is a sign of weakness. She gave the other paladins a quick run down before they entered the hall but continues to worry for them, especially Hunk. She knows how fearful he gets and wants nothing more than to allow both him and Pidge to return to the Lions. 

But they need to be here. It would be considered a grievous offence if not all of the available members of Voltron were in attendance to greet the Kaiser. She knows her paladins are strong, she knows they have handled worse than some petty intimidation.

Shiro, having gone statuesque as he gazed into the pool, finally breaks his bearing and shifts towards Allura. She peers at him and he nods his head towards the water. The princess cuts her eyes to the smooth surface of the basin, noticing the beginnings of soft ripples cutting through the peace. 

The Jaqat standing near them speaks, “Their Excellency  has arrived. Please take a step back if you do not wish to soak your clothes, Princess Allura.”

Both Shiro and Allura move away to a drier distance, standing so close that their arms brush with every movement. She knows her lead paladin has already planned a multitude of escape routes behind his perpetual calm facade. The safety of the princess and their wards has always been his main concern, a constant protection that takes precedence even over their mission to defeat the Galra. She respects his almost paternal care for them and trusts that no harm will come to the younger paladins with the two of them on guard. 

Suddenly, the water rushes and parts from a place not far from the edge as a great dark beast begins to rise from the depths. The Jaqat lining the walls fall to their knees in reverence, huge heads bowed and weapons lowered. Allura is the Princess of Altea and, as such, will not show her respect until the Kaiser fully breaches. The Jaqat monarch within the pool is a monstrous creature, their humongous webbed hands easily as large as Allura is long, and their great bald head nearly half the size of that of their Lions. Their broad face is featureless save for a wide, lipless mawl of barbed wire teeth. It has no eyes but Allura knows it watches them.

With Kaiser Tymna comes the strange, eerie sound of a large tongue clicking against teeth and wet skin. No doubt how they see the world around them. What did Pidge say the humans called it again? Echolocation? Whatever she said about it, the sound travels a steady loop, breaking off predictably before picking up again ticks later. They must not need to do it constantly, then.

They stand on two muscular legs, each like tree trunks, and tilt their head down as if looking at their guests. They wear tight fitting swimming gear and not much else over their navy blue skin.

Princess Allura finally curtsies shallowly, keeping her eyes set on the Jaqat. Beside her, Shiro follows suit, dipping at the waist with his hands tight at his sides. Hunk and Pidge scurry to copy their leaders’ movements, falling into awkward, poorly timed bows.

“Many greetings, Kaiser Tymna, Your Excellency.” Allura states, voice both amicable and strong. Shiro says nothing. 

Kaiser Tymna rumbles quietly, their blank surface of a face giving no emotion away. When they speak, it is as if they haven’t used their voice in  _ decapheobs,  _ “It is an honor to have you, Princess Allura of Altea.” Water drips slowly off their body and creates a pool at their massive feet. It is ignored. “I have word from the Eruk base that there have been complications.”

Allura nods as she rises from her curtsy, “Unfortunately so. It seems that my paladins were discovered. We have not heard from them since a few vargas ago.” She is careful to not let the concern bleed into her steady tone, “Their names are Keith and Lance, they pilot the Red and Blue Lions respectively. The last time we spoke, Lance told me they were making their way to their spy contact.”

“Yes,” Hums Kaiser Tymna, “my spy has reported that they successfully discovered the gang’s base of operations. I am impressed with your paladins’ ferocity.”

Hunk cheers softly behind them, quickly shutting himself up when Shiro shoots him a  _ Look.  _

Not allowing herself to feel relief just yet, Allura says, “That is excellent news. However, the corruption within Eruk’s police force has surfaced. They have powered a force field around the city- not even the Voltron Lions can fight their way in.”

The monarch nods slowly, “My spy told me that your...paladins,” they speak the word tentatively, as if they are not keen to call Keith and Lance so, “are not in good health. They have been taken to a safe house near the middle of the city. I have not been updated in the last varga.”

Pidge tenses next to Hunk, the two looking to each other in dismay. Hunk fails to hold his tongue, “Wait!” He exclaims, taking a step forward, “Your Excellency, what do you mean they’re ‘not in good health?’”

Kaiser Tymna’s head moves upwards, another series of clicking noises escaping their jaws, before they answer, “Just as I said. The Blue Paladin- Lance, yes?”

“Y-yes, that’s Lance-uh, Your Excellency.”

“He seems to have suffered some minor injuries to his arms and back. My spy supplied them with medical kits.”

Allura speaks up, casting pleading eyes at Hunk and Pidge, “And Keith? The Red Paladin?”

Kaiser Tymna’s mouth tugs suddenly, twisting into a deep frown that sends shivers down the paladins’ spines, “He is...interesting. Tell me, Princess Allura, why do you fight alongside Galra?”

“Keith?” Allura blinks in surprise. No one can ever tell that Keith is part Galra, not even Keith  _ himself  _ knew until recently! How would they know? “I mean no disrespect, Your Excellency, but Keith is only half Galra. He is more Earthling than not, and is loyal is to Voltron and their many missions, I can assure you that.”

“Are you so sure?” Their voice is now a grinding growl, full of ill-masked contempt, “From the intel I gathered from my spy, your Red Paladin was described as one would a full blooded Galra male.”

Shiro inhales sharply, his eyes wide and unsettled. Hunk scrunches his face in blatant confusion while Pidge’s brows furrow in irritation. She knows how much Keith distrusts his Galra heritage. He would be  _ furious  _ to have someone claiming him to be full blooded, and since he isn’t here right now, she feels the obligation to be angry in his place.

Allura’s perfect disposition finally cracks, her voice stammering incredulously as she says, “I-I beg your pardon! There must have been a mistake!”

Kaiser Tymna snarls suddenly, baring their vicious fangs and squaring their shoulders, “My spies  _ never _ make mistakes!” Their fists clench, “The Galra would burn this solar system in extinction! Tell me, Princess Allura, why does Voltron harbor  _ scum?! _ ”

Allura makes to respond but the monarch continues, “The Jaqat will not align themselves with those who break  _ bread, _ share their  _ home,  _ fight  _ battles  _ with those  _ beasts!  _ The only good Galra is a  _ dead  _ Galra.”

“Alright, that’s it!” Comes Pidge’s abrupt shout as she stomps forwards, breaking away from Hunk’s side and his grabbing hands. Many of the Jaqat guards jump to attention, moving in close to intercept the paladin. She hardly notices them as she glares heatedly up at the Kaiser, “You listen here, you oversized toad!” She comes to a stop directly in front of Shiro and Allura, slapping Shiro’s hand away as he attempts to push her behind him for protection. 

Their leader stares at her in surprise, holding his artificial hand in almost childish shock. Hunk would think it’s cute if he wasn’t so sure Pidge just lost her  _ damn mind! _

“Here Voltron is, coming to  _ your  _ aid because  _ your  _ government is so damn weak you can’t even deal with your own drug problems! And in, what? Not even  _ two  _ hours after arrival, we do what?!  _ Find the damn source of all your problems! _ ” Pidge exclaims, refusing to back down even as a huge Jaqat rests a cautioning hand on her shoulder.

Allura narrows her eyes at the guard, hissing out a warning through clenched teeth that are looking a little  _ sharp  _ in the dim light, “Be wary, Jaqat….”

“And who, out of all us humans, was the one to actually stumble across it?! Oh, yeah, the GALRA! The GALRA and the HUMAN who are now  _ stuck  _ in  _ your  _ city, suffering fuck knows what kind of shit, all because they wanted to help YOU and YOUR people! I am fed up with your- with your- your total  _ headassery! _ ”

Kaiser Tymna remains silent, head cocked to the side in almost curiosity. Pidge takes this as a solid sign to continue, not like she would be deterred by any other show of emotion anyways.

“Who cares if he’s Galra? He’s human and, more importantly, he’s  _ Voltron!  _ Would you deny your citizens safety just because you don’t want to play nice for not even  _ two minutes  _ with a guy who  _ isn’t even full Galra?! _ ”

The atmosphere is tense and in shell-shocked silence. Any illusion of diplomacy has been blow clean out of the water. Allura is positive no one has  _ ever  _ berated the Kaiser so brazenly, as the guards who have gathered don’t seem to know what to even think of the matter. Hunk is mumbling nervously to himself but his voice falls on deaf ears, not that he notices. 

Pidge continues to glare with a vicious scowl set deep on her mouth, refusing to back down even as Kaiser Tymna continues to release bursts of clicks to get a layout of the room. She doesn’t shove Shiro off this time as he lays a hand on her shoulder. 

After many moments of tight air, Kaiser Tymna breaks the quiet, her words startling all present, “I see. My deepest apologies, Green Paladin. I did not mean to offend you,” They turn their attention to Allura, “nor you, Princess Allura. I allowed my emotions to get the better of me.”

Nodding with an indignant sniff, Pidge comments, “Yes, you did. But I forgive you.” 

“Pidge!” Whispers Hunk, his eyes wide, “Shut up!”

“No, no,” The monarch rumbles, raising a hand to cut Hunk off, “she is correct. But, I am confused about one thing.”

Princess Allura glances at Shiro, a plea in her eyes. He understands and pushes Pidge back towards Hunk, the stern look on his face quieting any complaints. She huffs as she returns to Hunk’s side, slipping through the large Jaqat guards without much worry. Hunk’s quick to runs his hands lightly over her arms and shoulders, likely checking to make sure she’s alright. She rolls her eyes at his motherly nature but plays along to calm him.

“That is what, Your Excellency?” Questions Allura.

“My spies are never wrong, it is true. They would never report information they are not completely confident in. They told me of a full-blooded Galra.”

“But Keith  _ looks  _ very human.”

“Allow me to broadcast to you their report. Perhaps it can shed some light on the matter.”

“Please.”

Kaiser Tymna curls their great fingers towards the Jaqat attendant, who springs into action. They scurry over to their monarch, carrying a large electronic tablet that only glows with life when the Kaiser grabs it from them. Even though it would take Allura’s whole arm span to hold the thing, the tablet looks normal in their hands. They fiddle with it for a quick moment before a deep voice emerges from the speakers of the device,

_ “Agent XED-78*I, in Eruk District, reporting in to Agent UVF-001*A as requested. Many events have occurred since last report. I made contact with Red and Blue at pick up location. After suiting up, we proceeded with mission. During reconnaissance, we discovered that the Eruk District is the home for the main distillery, I have included many photographs and videos for evidence. _

_ However, we were discovered when Red intervened in the killing of a civilian. I left them behind, as ordered, and thought them dead. I came across them again later. Both Red and Blue escaped the distillery, but at very steep costs. Blue is injured, with lacerations along his arms and back. He also suffers from chemical burns to the face.” _

The paladins gasp, Hunk’s hand flying to cover his mouth and Pidge’s fists clenching shakily at her sides. They continue to listen.

_ “His wounds are nothing in light of what Red has been put through.” _

Shiro sucks in a harsh breath, sickness building in his gut. Oh God,  _ Keith- _

_ “Before entering the distillery, Red appeared fully human. He had the same physical attributes as Blue, and not once did I suspect he was anything but Earthling. This was not the case when I came across them again. I found Blue in a crowd, standing beside an alien I had thought he just happened to meet, but this assumption was incorrect. Upon closer inspection, I knew it was Red, only this time, he had the full appearance of a mature Galra male.” _

“Impossible!” Shiro cuts in, features contorted into utter confusion and disbelief, “He isn’t-”

Allura hushes him, wanting to hear the remainder of the report.

_ “It was at this time they discovered that the gang’s connection to the local police department had them trapped within the city. We are all trapped until further notice. I followed them when they took refuge in an alleyway and approached them. Red showed signs of aggression and would have attacked me, if Blue had not calmed him.  _

_ I believe Red is a liability as he is now, and will continue to be so unless we find a way to combat whatever it is that has done to him. I have taken Red and Blue to Agent FDX-56*Y’s safe house. This concludes my report. I will send another in two vargas.” _

The recording cuts off and Kaiser Tymna hands the tablet back to the assistant. Once again, the throne room is completely silent. The Jaqat guards watch on stoically, having moved back to their original formations. 

“No,” Hunk suddenly speaks, his voice startling the others, “no, there’s no possible way Keith’s-”

Pidge nods her agreement, “Yeah!” Her tone gives away her dubiousness, “For his body to change that much, it would have killed him. There’s no way Keith could just  _ morph  _ into some alien creature.”

Kaiser Tymna only clicks again, speaking with certain finality, “Believe what you will.”

Allura’s communicator on her left arm suddenly lights up, signalling that she is receiving a transmission. Her brows pull together at the familiar notification. “This is from Coran,” She looks up at the monarch, “please excuse me, Your Excellency, this is an emergency.”

They nod silently.

Allura moves away from the pool, joining Hunk and Pidge some distance away. She pulls up the feed from the castleship, surprised to see Coran’s face practically taking up the  _ whole  _ screen, “Yes, Coran, what is it?”

He shouts loudly into the mic, looking frazzled,  _ “Allura! You all must return to the castleship! Lance and Keith have made contact! They’re on the transmission now!” _

Hunk and Pidge break into huge grins, both equally relieved to know that their friends are alive and relatively safe. Allura is smiling, as well, as she answers, “Very well, we shall return immediately. Keep them on the line!”

_ “Princess…,”  _ Coran says, his voice suddenly much quieter,  _ “Princess, it isn’t good.” _

“What- what do you mean, Coran?” But she already knows. 

_ “It’s Keith.” _

Kaiser Tymna was right.

 

* * *

 

 

The spy base isn’t what Lance thought it was going to be.

“Hm, I was expecting more, I don’t know,  _ spyness? _ ” He says as Maxyn leads them through another set of doors on the third floor of an unassuming office building. Jaqat and other aliens of all different types of species move around cubicles and long desks, barely sparing Maxyn or the paladins a glance as they go. Surprisingly, they don’t stare at Keith, who had left his hooded jacket back in the safe house. Lance was ready for some sort of general animosity towards him, all things considered, but nope, not even a side eye. 

The building is boring and bland, as are the workers. Lance is a little weirded out by how Earth-like the place is, he’s even sure he saw some alien wearing a  _ tie,  _ for shit’s sake! He sighs heavily.

“C’mon, where’s the James Bond? The secret doorways and rectal scanners-”

“I think you mean retina scanners.” Keith corrects, completely fed up with Lance’s inability to shut up for more than three seconds.

“Yeah,  _ those!  _ Where’s those at, huh? I was promised  _ spies! _ ” Someone finally shoots Lance a dirty look. He shrugs it off and taps their guide’s shoulder, frowning at them, “Where we headed, Maxyn?”

At least Maxyn can continue to look patient and kind. They do that weird thing with their mouth Keith is pretty sure is supposed to be a smile and answers, “Gych is waiting for us in my office. They have the transmission device you need to contact your friends.”

“Awesome-”

“And the details of our next step. We need to quickly free Eruk so that the military can wipe the distillery out, and so that you two can pilot Voltron.”

“Even better. Allura can help us out with planning, too. She’s this super smart alien princess, over ten thousand years old, but don’t let that freak you out! She’s totally hot.” Lance gushes, a big grin on his face as he recounts an overly dramatic tale of Allura’s ferocity. 

Keith’s jaw tightens, his fangs grinding together as Lance continues to speak. Of course Lance is still hot for the princess.  _ What, did you think just because he told you he loves you, he would just stop loving her? He never even said it was romantic love, anyways.  _ That’s a thought that sends a spike of panic through Keith’s heart. Lance...Lance says he loves people all the time. He tells Hunk  _ every day  _ that he loves him, even goes into long winded speeches about his  _ undying love  _ for him. Maybe...maybe Lance meant it that way. Maybe Lance meant he loves Keith as a  _ friend,  _ and nothing more. Maybe he’s still in love with Allura.

“You okay there, big guy samurai?” 

Keith realizes his claws had been digging into his palms. He tries to relax them, finding blood has caked beneath his nails and smeared across his skin. Glancing upwards, he stares at Lance, whose baby blues are bright with worry. He shrugs, “Yeah. Keep walking.”

Mouth twisting into a sour expression, Lance reaches out towards Keith. Hardly thinking, Keith flinches away from the contact, heart still hurting from Lance’s obvious affections for Allura. Lance pulls back, face aghast with offended pain.

“Wait, Lance-” Keith starts, but Lance is already turning away, marching angrily until he catches up with Maxyn. He strikes up easy conversation, leaving Keith to follow glumly behind.

_ Fuck,  _ Keith curses to himself,  _ it isn’t his fault. He just wants to be your friend, and here you are ruining it with your feelings.  _

He sighs heavily, thinking back to the desperation in Lance’s eyes when he told him he loved him. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I am alive! Barely! Finals are either just about done or done by the time I upload this...  
> I was gonna post WAY sooner (like three weeks ago sooner) buuuut then I bought red Dead Redemption II?? And I haven't been seen since. I am in love with Arthur Morgan, we are getting married soon. be on the lookout for invites to the rad bash  
> ANYWAYS, I have finally gotten the chapter count down for this fic. Yes, it shall be TEN chapters, with the long awaited smut in chapter 10. Unless if something huge happens and I decide to split shit up. But y'know, we'll burn that bridge when we get to it.  
> I plan to start updating more because my semester is over. I am trying to update this in the next three weeks...or publish a new one shot I have been working on, who knows. Be on the look out for those!  
> Thank you for reading and being so patient with my dumb ass. I really love to write but college HATES it when I write for myself!!!!!!!!!!!!  
> I wish y'all some rootin' tootin' cowboy shootin'!

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: [@ronswansoneatsmyass](https://ronswansoneatsmyass.tumblr.com/)  
> I do commissions and I RP! Come hang out with me!


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